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jade-parcels · 3 years

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HHHH THE WAY YOU WRITE ZHONGLI'S CONVERSATION KINK yes I would. Love to indulge. Anything he wants. I would love an expansion on that. Hhhhhhhhnnnn

- NOTSFW!! Minors do not interact with this post -

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It’s so hot. Unbearably so. Liyue Harbor usually has a lovely ocean breeze blowing through the city but that breeze doesn’t reach back into the area where the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor sits. The windows are shut, so are the doors. Everyone else has left to go to lunch except...

“And as you know, there’s a shortage of mora circulating in Teyvat at the moment” a hot, gloved hand slides up and down your sticky thigh “Which has been causing the prices of goods to go up. Many businesses here in Liyue Harbor are starting to feel the some financial pressure”

“If only there was someone who could do something about that” you sigh, blowing your hair from your face. The ex-geo archon huffs a breathy laugh, rocking his hips into you

“You know there is nothing I can do without blowing my cover as an ordinary human. I’m retired now. Either way, even if I did make more mora for my people. Then what? The market would be suddenly flooded with mora again seemingly out of nowhere” you gasp loudly as he hits that sweet spot inside of you, reaching forward to brace yourself against the desk he’s cleared for the two of you.

“I-it would be good for the market- ah- right? A flood of mora or- ngh! Or not- it would help these people out in tough times like this” his hands grip your waist now, sure to leave bruises on your sensitive skin “Having more mora circulating would make life easier for everyone”

Zhongli clicks his tongue, slowing his pace to talk. You want him to go faster but you know he won’t, he’ll hold you here all day if he wants to “You are very intelligent. I know that you know the basics of economics, love. When there is too much mora circulating, it lessens in value. We don’t want to over inflate the value of mora. Things will go back to normal in a few months when people can adjust to the shortage. Then, it won’t even be a shortage anymore. The last thing we want to do is suddenly flood the market, then-“

You can hardly focus on his argument anymore, all you can think about is how badly you want him to move! It’s been over two hours now, you’re shaking and sweating while Zhongli almost looks bored. He’s still in his work clothes, he hasn’t even taken his damn gloves off! He barely has any wrinkles in his pants, he hasn’t broken a sweat either despite manhandling you for so long. He just keeps talking, only continuing to fuck you as long as you engage in conversation with him-

“Are you listening to me?” you’re snapped out of your thoughts as your boyfriend grabs your chin “You’re not bored, are you? We can always do something else. I thought you were having a good time chatting with me”

“No! No I am! I was just thinking about something you said earlier!” You whine, turning your head to look up at him with pleading eyes “Of course I love talking to you”

Zhongli smiles and you can’t tell if it’s a kind or threatening smile “What did I just say then? Surely you must remember if you were listening”

“I...Uh...You were talking about over inflating the value of mora and-“ you’re interrupted as Zhongli’s hips snap forward, thrusting his cock deep into you

“I knew it. You have ignored me for ten minutes now” he knocks your arms away, pushing you down onto the desk. The wood is somewhat cool, it feels lovely against your sweaty skin though you don’t have much time to think about the temperature in the room “Allow me to give you a lesson in economics. Apparently you need a little refresher. I promise it won’t be too long, be sure to pay attention so I don’t have to repeat myself”

With that, he starts another lecture. It takes so much energy to focus and retain the information. Every few minutes he makes you talk to show you’re paying attention, he loves being able to have such an in depth conversation with you. He always tells you how smart you are, the two of you talk for hours and hours about anything and everything.

Now is no exception. Zhongli can and will talk through sex, only stopping to groan as he comes, picking right back up once he’s caught his breath. He’ll only allow you to do the same once you’ve given him a worthwhile conversation...It’s going to be a long night for you for sure.

I’m very rusty so I hope this is to your liking, Anon!

#night posts #series: smut #series: notsfw #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact writing #genshin impact zhongli #Zhongli x reader #genshin impact smut

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kohakuarisaka · 3 years

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Untamed (chapter 5 of 5)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Every year, without fail, Hawks went into a rut: when autumn began, and then again in early spring. He would honker down up north in a secluded cabin. For the first time, he brought you with him.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Non-canon compliant: Hawks’ quirk does not work like this. Reader is a hero that works at Hawks agency. Pre-existing relationship. Reader is a female with female genitalia. Feral behavior. Rutting. Biting. Spanking. Slight BDSM. Consensual sex. Wing kink. Oral sex. Romantic relationship.

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

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It was dark by the time you woke, that much was clear since Hawks had pulled the curtains back and the only source of light was coming from the fireplace. Your chest, facing the fire, felt warm; but, your back, despite being wrapped in blankets, felt bare and cold.

Hawks was no longer nuzzled in the assortment of bedding with you, and while that shouldn't have mattered to you that much, it strangely did. You felt a tinge of anxiety as you sat up; but, then, you spotted him, or more accurately his wings, as he was fumbling around with something in the kitchen.

He had seen or felt you stirring, that much was clear when Hawks came speeding around into the living room with a water bottle in hand. His hair was a scraggly mess and he was naked, glistening with various fluids and clearly very unwashed.

"Here," he offered, slinking back into the mess of sheets and pillows.

You chugged half the water bottle down, parting with a sigh and watched Hawks hastily gulp down what was left before carelessly tossing the bottle away. It didn't land on the ground, zipped away and tossed in the trash by one of his feathers.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

One of his hands caressed the side of your neck, fingers wrapped loosely around the back and thumb prodding at your jaw. He turned your head slightly one way, then the next, examining you.

His concerned tone and the worry etched all over his face, along with his examination, had you frowning. Annoyance surfaced at Hawks behaving as if he had something wrong or even hurt you.

"Why wouldn't I be?" you asked bluntly, not bothering to mask the irritation in your tone.

His eyebrows lowered slightly and his lips puckered into a pout. However, there was some ease on his face, pleased to know you hadn't lost your wits or bite. That was always a good sign.

"You know why," he uttered lowly.

"It was so horrible. That's why I begged you to keep going," you replied dryly.

It was worth the sass to watch his cheeks darken just a little bit. Hawks was very rarely the kind of get shy; but, he had exposed a very hidden part of himself to you, something dark and feral that wasn't exactly good for a pro hero, or any person for that matter.

"Keigo," you uttered, shifting your tone to something gentler. "I really did enjoy it. It didn't hurt or anything. You just wore me out, and - aheh - that was a new record for us, yeah?"

His frown slowly shifted into a faint smile. "A record for me," he uttered, shifting his gaze away. "But, I didn't get you there nearly as much."

"Come on, you know it's not that easy; and, it's not like it didn't feel good - every second of it," you protested, hand landing on his chest, right over his heart.

Hawks' skin felt sticky, no doubt with your combined sweat and possibly other fluids. But, you didn't dare retreat, staring at him with dedication until he finally looked back at you.

"How was it for you?" you asked sincerely. "Was it good - was I good?"

Hawks' eyes lit up as if he couldn't believe you had to even ask.

"Holy fu-" he breathed. "I didn't wanna make you worry or anything, so I didn't say it; but, alone, I wouldn't, y'know, masturbate. Just-" He paused to take a deep breath. "-week long stiffy."

He paused again to let out a brief, debilitating laugh. You, however, weren't laughing, frowning at the winged hero.

"So, I wasn't sure what to expect," he continued. "With you here and - well, you know, so I could-"

Hawks paused, leaning in to kiss you in an attempt to wipe the sour look off your face and to get himself to stop blabbering on senselessly.

"But, babe," he continued hastily, "goddamn, you were so, so good. Never felt so satisfied in my fucking life."

For a man who was always so secretive, always wearing a mask, the truth sounded so good on his lips, like he couldn't wait to tell you, like the weight of the world just lifted off his shoulders. He was wearing a small smile, eyes wrinkled at the corners, with a faint red tint on his cheeks.

"You satisfy me, too, y'know?" you whispered softly. "Always. So, I - I'm happy that I can give you that, too."

"Oh, babe," Hawks replied, matching your tone, albeit more sweetly. "This isn't new. You always make me feel so good. That's why I always come back, begging for more."

"Begging, huh? That's an option?" you teased hoarsely, leaning in to peck at the corner of his lips.

Hawks smiled, turning his head to kiss you properly, parting with a wet smack after a few seconds.

"If it's what you want?" he offered, whispering against your lips. "Me begging? Dirty girl."

You laughed softly at his teasing. If you were being honest with yourself, you were enraptured at the mere mental image, not that Hawks was too above getting on his knees for you, typically to reach your sex with his mouth. He didn't mind doing it on concrete, either, especially after a patrol, with his jumpsuit clinging to his sweaty body.

"Could I beg for something right now?" you asked softly.

"'course, babe," Hawks replied, his smile unwavering.

"Can I take a shower?" you muttered.

His brow lifted, eyes widening almost comically, and he flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah - yeah - you don't have to ask - oh - ohhh - I kinda growled at you huh-" Hawks cut off with nervous laughter, one of his hands flying up to push sweaty hair out of his face.

"You know," you began, voice a little hoarse, "you could do that outside of your rut, too?"

Hawks licked his lips before they curled into a grin. "Yeah? You like that? I can do that. Whatever you want," he replied suavely, as if you had just given him permission to do something quite dastardly.

"Ugh-" he stammered, charmed expression immediately shifting into something adorably nervous. "Before you - can I - can I look?"

To make his point clearer, Hawks slowly pulled the blanket off your body, sliding it away from your legs until you were nude to the air inside the cabin. His hands touched your knees but didn't pry them apart. Instead, you opened your legs for him, feeling a flush of nervousness as something very wet gushed from your folds, the hypersensitivity making the feeling intensified.

Hawks looked down, cheeks red and eyes comically wide; instead of following his gaze, you watched him, intrigued by the expression he was wearing. If you were being honest, it looked like the face a child made the first time they came across porn on the internet.

"Oh," he blurted dumbly.

If he didn't look so damn cute, you probably would have smacked him. It was embarrassing, if the mess looked how it felt, which it did. Hawks could see thick globs of his seed oozing from your cunt, like something out of a porno and not reality.

He swallowed loudly, resisting the urge to use his fingers to smear it all over your sex.

"Keigo?" you uttered, catching his attention suddenly.

"Sorry," he replied hoarsely. "That's really fucking hot."

His bold statement had your heart thundering with praise. However, as much as he might have enjoyed the sight of his seed dripping out of you, you were quite over it. That must have been written all over your face, for the winged hero flushed nervously.

"I'll - ugh - get you to the - the shower," Hawks stammered, standing up and carefully bringing you with him.

You didn't protest when you lifted you into his arms and carried you across the cabin, heading for the bathroom. More oozed out when he set you on your feet, and Hawks paused to stare, watching a heavy droplet slide down your inner thigh.

You dramatically cleared your throat and Hawks jolted as if you had slapped him. He staggered away, leaning into the shower to turn the nozzle. He remained standing nearby, one hand under the running water to check the temperature.

After a minute or so, and some fiddling with the knob, he pulled his hand away.

"There, scalding, just how you like it," he teased.

"Oh, shut up," you huffed harmlessly, carefully stepping past him to enter the shower.

You were surprised when he followed in after you, not because you were discomforted by his accompaniment, but because you were surprised you both managed to fit. The shower was clearly not made for couples. It made you wonder if Hawks ever expected to have someone else here with him.

Hawks carefully slid into the spot behind you as the warm water gently pummeled your front, soaking your hair and washing away the sweat. He tucked his wings in tight against his back to avoid smacking the walls and waited for his turn under the stream.

However, that thought died when he caught the sight of your back, littered with pink bruises and two large marks the shape of his teeth. Without thinking, he arched over you to kiss at the bite marks he had left over your shoulders and upper back. You whined at the sudden touch and the slight pain that blossomed on the bruised skin.

"Sorry," Hawks uttered sharply and suddenly, reeling back so quickly that he smacked into the wall, as if he had lost control for a moment.

"I should leave-" he choked out, pushing the sliding door to the shower back open.

You sharply turned around to stop him. As you took in the sight of him, you realized that he was hard again, which was likely what prompted his retreat. Well, it was an attempted retreat anyway, for you grabbed at his arm, stopping him halfway out.

"Keigo, it's okay," you uttered softly, pulling him back into the shower.

He looked comically terrified as you dragged him back into the stall and under the flowing current of the shower head. His hands smacked onto the wall and his feet skidded against the tiles as he tried not to collide with you. His wings shuddered behind him, feathers trying to remain tucked in tight against his back, resisting the urge to flex out.

"Can you be gentle?" you asked, in less of a questioning tone, and more of a guiding one.

You could see the fear melt away and unbridled, raw passion began to glow in his gold eyes.

"Fuck - really? Y-yeah," he breathed.

His tone, so grateful, so happy, tugged at your heartstrings and made your clit throb faintly between your legs. You were ashamed to think that you could still get aroused after such an eventful morning. Yet, you had no doubt, he could easily slip in right now without any preparation. It was an exciting thought.

You turned around slowly, folded your arms against the wall and laid your cheek against them, before propping up on your toes, presenting to him. Hawks braced an arm on the wall with a sudden smack that startled you. He let out a low exhale, and you wondered if he nearly fell over.

"Fuck," he sighed, confirming that suspicion. "I really - really gotta make it up to you," he uttered, hands slowly sliding over your plump hips.

"Nothing to make up," you protested softly. "'m enjoying myself, too."

He didn't pull or move you, but brought himself in. You felt the tops of his thighs against the back of yours, his knees getting knocking against you, toes curling where they touched your own feet.

You weren't surprised at how easily he slipped in. Hawks, however, clearly was, for he whined like an injured pup, and you felt his head fall forward and collide with your back. A drawn-out shudder ran through him, from head to toe, and you felt every inch of it.

"Ohhhh fuck," he groaned into your skin. He leaned back enough to kiss at one of your bruises. "No more bites," he promised. "Just - mmm-" he cut off and you felt the heat of his tongue lapping at the bite marks while he grumbled out a please hum.

Instead of one of his feathers, a long, calloused digit dipped between your folds to flick back and forth at your pearl in long strokes, forcing a pleased whine from deep in your throat.

As you requested, he set a steady pace, just enough force to be enjoyable, but not anything like this morning. Like this, he reached that perfect spot that made you keen. He seemed to be enjoying the drag well enough, if his soft moans and huffed exhales were anything to go by.

"That's perfect," you sobbed, nails scratching against the wall tiles.

"Yeah?" he uttered hopefully.

His boyish tone caught you a little off guard, not that it was unwanted. He seemed excited at the thought of getting you to come. It was hardly a priority for you most of the time. It felt good and that was all that mattered; Hawks, however, was a man on a mission.

"Like that?" he groaned, right into your ear.

He didn't change anything, but desired the confirmation that he was doing it right.

"Yes, Keigo," you uttered weakly. Immediately, you changed your mind. "No - harder," you added on insistently.

He obeyed, delivering a little more force to the movement of his hips, and then, it really was perfect. You pushed back against the wall, legs straining to keep yourself upright, to meet his thrusts, to keep him at that perfect angle. You threatened to fall when your orgasm hit you, but Hawks had an arm wrapped around your waist in record time.

Your combined screams echoed in the tiny shower stall, and you realized faintly that he was coming, too. His wings unconsciously jutted out and smacked the wall. Hawks, however, couldn't be bothered to care, and kept thrusting into you until every drop was spent.

You tilted your head back and he lowered his, meeting you in a sloppy kiss that was mostly tongue and teeth. His cock softened, surprisingly, and popped free, leading you to wonder if you had finally exhausted him, at least for today.

The pleased, blissed out look on his face was something downright pornographic, but beautiful as ever. Even when you turned your head away from the kiss, he lingered, lips brushing your cheek. His tongue darted out to taste your skin, and you growled.

"Guh - stop that," you scolded him, arm shifting back and threatening to elbow him.

He didn't apologize, unsurprisingly, but he did stop.

Hawks reached up, uttering, "the shower head detaches", and pulled it down to make his point. Sure enough, it extended with a metallic sound as the internal hose dragged.

"Actually," you uttered. "You said you'll make it up to me?"

Hawks hummed agreeingly.

"Clean me," you demanded softly.

He chuckled into the space above your shoulder, whispering, "yes, ma'am."

In the days that followed, Hawks bent you over the chabudai, propped you up on the counter tops in the kitchen, against the door when you threatened to step outside without him. You were almost embarrassed to admit that his angered state had aroused you senselessly.

On one of the warmer days, he took you outside, held you up against a tree with your legs wrapped around his waist, and fucked you until you forgot how cold it was. At some point, his momentum had become too feverous, and knocked some snow off the tree, which coated the both of you.

Together, you melted the snow off in front of the fireplace. He stared at you, then, as if he couldn't believe you were real. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, as he wondered if this was a fever dream and not reality.

"Birdie, talk to me," you asked, breaking him out of his stupor.

"I'm just so happy," he answered, looking a little weak, for just a moment.

"Me, too," you whispered, feeling him fold over you, bringing you into an embrace, before his wings followed, wrapping around you like a crimson blanket.

When the final day came, you spent the morning cleaning the cabin together, just the same as you did when you first arrived. Hawks cleared the ashes out of the fireplace while you dusted. He put covered the furniture, using his wings to gain some height to make it easier, while you folded the freshly washed bedding and tucked it away in the chest upstairs.

He looked like a new man, if you were being honest. His feathers were bright and shiny, elegantly draped behind him in their neat assembly of twin wings. His skin practically glowed and his eyes were sharp. There was bounce in his step and he was practically buzzing with energy. You couldn't help but feel smug at the sight. His rut was ending well satisfied for the first time in his entire life-

-because of you.

When everything was done, Hawks suddenly descended upon you, arms winding around your waist and lips assaulting your cheek in feathery kisses.

You giggled at the onslaught, ceasing when he whispered into your ear, "one last time? -before the taxi arrives?"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes a little, scolding harmlessly, "horny bird."

"Ahuh," he agreed with a smirk.

You pushed against him until he let out go and glanced around the room, debating on what position and location suited your fancy. Hawks watched silently, intrigued and excited, as you walked around the cabin. He followed, hot on your heels, reaching for you every time you paused only to be shrugged off.

Luckily, it didn't take you long to choose a spot, grab Hawks by the arm, and drag him. He didn't have to be told twice, and pinned you there, leaning over you predatorily. Limbs tangled and lips met in a hurry to have each other one more time before you were whisked back to your hero lives.

#takami keigo x reader #takami keigo smut #takami keigo x you #takami keigo fanfiction #hawks x reader #hawks smut

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bokugaos · 3 years

Text

blessed is the man.

characters: konoha, bokuto

length: 2.3k

tw — incest, alcohol, aphrodisiacs, voyeurism, oral (m. receiving), nipple play, lactation

summary: konoha slips something in your sake and things don’t go as planned, however it looks more than either of you can handle.

Working for the Bokuto family is not all bad. They pay well. Coming from old money means they are rather influential as they have roots in most businesses and fields, guaranteeing that they stay in the top 5% of the country. Any illegal activities they do are actually rather negligible.

Most of the dirty work is still handled by the head of the clan and his son, leaving his grandchildren out of the misery of the business world domination. The two eldest granddaughters have been following the exact footsteps as they have come of age, each in charge of a different branch of the oligarchy.

The title of the future successor would eventually fall on the only grandson, who is actually a great authoritative figure when given the right moment and opportunity, granted, if there are no distractions around. One would argue that as the youngest of the family, you’re the one most neglected, unbound by any responsibilities and most family matters.

The empire’s grandchildren are a feat to be ogled—though that one is not necessarily described by the person who introduced Konoha to the job. Rather, it is a quiet perk that he comes to realize as soon as he steps foot in the estate, catching eyes full of you walking along the hallway with your kimono restricting wide movements, and he follows your shadow as you move rather eloquently under the moonlight.

He goes back to the same wing the following night, and the night after that, and after, but he doesn’t get to see you. Instead, what he has been getting is the sight of the grandson drunkenly stumbling in after a night in town, clothes hanging off of him sticky with spilled alcohol.

Bokuto is easy, open with affection, most often drunk and not caring as long as he gets to have fun with his friends or his bodyguards. Konoha doesn’t understand how the assigned right hand of his, Akaashi, he remembers his name, puts up with the young master. But Bokuto is actually bearable, he supposes, he is just ridiculously energetic and bubbly and up to anything that even remotely promises to take him away from handling his actual duties as the future heir.

His little sister, on the other hand…

Konoha can tell that you are just as slutty, but just more stingy about it. Under the second eldest daughter’s provision, your older sister who quite naturally drinks sake every night just because it’s her hobby—routine, as she calls it—you get drunk, too, but in the confines of your room where your kimono will slip deeper and deeper off your shoulders until it is hanging off of you sloppily and showing off the curves of your tits.

Sometimes you’ll stumble your way out into the gardens where you will lie in the wet grass, legs spread and giving anybody walking past a nice view of your luscious thighs because of course the youngest in the Bokuto empire is a raging slut that does not make a habit out of wearing underwear.

But—you’re as oblivious about those tender, smooth skin as you are about everything else in your goddamn life.

It is your own fault, really, what is happening to you. You’re forcing their hands on the issue—if only you had been more forthcoming with spreading your legs, and the staff wouldn’t have had to resort to such dire measures…

Only that’s not true. Not really. Of course they could have just let the issue lie and watch you come out of hiding; waiting until you’re in a drunken stupor so they can creep out and jerk off on you; maybe drape you around their shoulders like some perverse hunting trophy, showing your tight little ass off to a camera and spreading your cheeks wide so they can take pictures of the cunt you’re so stingy with.

The truth of the matter is, though, that Konoha doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want you to be a lewd little fuck doll, head lolling and drooling onto your own tits. He wants you aware and needy, begging for his cock and whining for his cum, crying in despair when you’ve can’t have either of them because he’ll deny you as fucking long as he can before he’ll fuck your cunt loose and sloppy.

It’s absolutely, hilariously easy to do. He gets the substance on his errand out into the city, buying them from a seedy mechanic in between jobs of collecting extortion money and fixing spare parts.

Then he mixes them into the order of sake, preferring to make sure you will be too drunk to care about any taste that might be skewered by the added dose of a chemical cocktail.

Lucky for him, you’re actually drinking alone tonight, no patronizing older sister in sight. So he, finally, brings the bottle to you, already sitting with your legs spread wide, kimono rucked up on your thighs.

And then—he just has to wait for it to hit your bloodstream. For you to get squirmy and short of breath, hips fucking helplessly into the air and nipples hard and escaping from the heavy folds of your kimono.

He waits for you to get hot and needy, to call for someone to alleviate the heat surging in your little body, and then he will descend upon you like a vulture, urging your thighs apart and fucking you until your pretty cunt is a sloppy, gaping hole—

You do get restless. Your shoulders are trembling, and your nipples plump up into fat little nubs that beg for some sharp teeth to bite and pull at them—but when you start to sing, drunkenly crawling around the tatami mats of your floor on all fours, crying like a cat in heat, you do not call for a servant to alleviate your need.

You call for your brother.

And Bokuto Koutarou, dutiful now as Konoha has never quite seen elsewhere, comes running. He watches, dismayed, horrified and horny, as your brother takes the situation in and just… has at it.

In his eyes, you can’t be more than drunk; his slut of a sister that calls for a fuck once the alcohol has finally reached a threshold that makes your inhibitions slip like the heavy fabric of your kimono slides down your shoulders. He doesn’t know about the thing Konoha has slipped you; doesn’t know that the latter has primed you to spread your legs for him so he can pull you on his cock and make you piss yourself with how good you think you’re getting it.

So in Bokuto’s mind, he has to simply be a deviant that takes advantage of his drunk little sister—and Konoha wonders if that is even worse than what he has been planning to do to you.

“Imouto,” Bokuto croons, hands hovering over your naked shoulders as you become aware of your visitor and turn around, glassy eyes fixing on him with desperate intensity. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling for me?”

There’s a sweaty sheen crawling up down from your hairline and up from your collar, making you feel so stuffy that you can’t keep your eyes open fully—but Bokuto doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t even seem to take notice, because he has a goal; a mission—and that is to get in his little sister’s cunt, free and unhindered, no inhibition.

You are uncoordinated, but fuelled with hot, needy determination, you manage to grab at his pants and drag them down his thighs. Bokuto’s cock is nice and plump already, and fills easily enough as you croon at it, lipping sloppily at the shaft while leaning your head against his thigh.

It looks like the two of you have done this a million times. Bokuto’s hand falls into your hair, idly stroking through it and untangling the little tie from the ends so he can muss it properly. There is no hesitation; no awkwardness. Just Bokuto tilting his hips forward a little and using his grip on your hair to guide your mouth along his rapidly fattening cock.

Bokuto is using you like a whore he’s paid for the night. He tightens his grip in your hair, pulling you away far enough that he can start to pop just the tip of his cock between your plump lips, then pull it away from you again after just a few desperate suckles and uncoordinated lashes of your slippery tongue.

“Damn… you’re drooling so much today.” He whispers when he sees the steady drip down your chin. You just stare at him, looking brain dead and horny, whining when you paw the folds of your kimono aside and show him your pussy shyly, hoping he’d do something about how incredibly wet it has become.

It’s only then that Bokuto starts to pause and question the situation. Crooning at you and pushing you to lie on you back; asking you if you’re not feeling well, but also not stopping to touch you, gently slapping at your cheek to make you open your eyes and stare at him blearily as his other hand travels down and gropes your tits.

Apparently the young master has some standards that involve his hopelessly drunk play things not being absolutely comatose as he fucks them. You are gurgling breathlessly, mindlessly arching your tits into his hand, your hips grinding up happily from where the folds of your kimono are parted, dripping steadily and stickily.

Bokuto has taken to caging you between his knees, holding your jaw in a tight grip to make sure you keep staring at him while he pinches your nipples mean enough to make you cry out even in your drunken, aphrodisiac stupor.

He feels something warm and wet hit his chest, and he looks down in confusion, mouth dropping open on a soft, mesmerized ‘o’ as he sees the quite literally milky liquid slide down his pecs where it hit him. His eyes travel to his hand, thumb and forefinger still pinched around your swollen nipple.

Your wet swollen nipple.

“What the fuck, are you...?” Bokuto’s voice breaks, higher and a little panicked. He lets go of your jaw with his other hand, grabbing at your tits and squeezing until you’re whining and squirming. Milking you. Losing his goddamn mind as liquid starts rolling from your ripe teats as you sob and artlessly fuck the air.

“Niichan, please..!” Voice trembling, you defeatedly move one of your hands over his, placed over your swollen nipple, the area puffy and supple under his fingers.

Konoha wanted to curse; Bokuto’s hands grabbing at your tits were a big obstruction to his view enough, and now your hand just adds to his frustration. He watches closely as Bokuto pinches your nubs and you moan, open mouthed and filthy, your head tipping back as milk squirts onto his hand. The sweet scent intensifies and you shudder at the feel of warm liquid trickling down his arm.

Not even pausing to think about it, Bokuto brings his arm up to his face and licks the milk off, an acute sweetness exploding in his mouth. A choked grunt distracts him from his reverie and he looks up to meet your unfocused stare. It sounds very distant, yet very .. present at the same time.

Silently catching his breath, Konoha alternates between staring cautiously at Bokuto, and sending contemplating peeks at your swollen breasts. But it seems that the young master is equally as distracted by the puffy, shiny nipple right in his face. A single bead of white is gathering and it is so tempting, Konoha wants to cry from frustration.

The arousal is so potent and thick in the air, he can almost taste it in the back of his throat. He’s not sure what Bokuto wants to do to you, but with the way his cock is already so rigidly twitching, the outcome seems guaranteed.

Bokuto drags his tongue through the sticky mess on your chest, taking his time to circle your swollen nipples, his gaze steady on your face. Keening desperately, you thrust a hand into his hair and tug him closer. He wraps his lips around the raised peak, flicking the tip of his tongue over the sensitive flesh. More warm sweetness bursts into his mouth, judging by the way you cry out and start whimpering even louder.

Konoha nearly slams his fist to the door but settles with a string of curses beneath his breath, of how he’s supposed to be kneeling there, taking your nipples in his mouth, tasting the sweet milk your body is so eagerly offering.

Not that both Bokuto and you seem capable of noticing anything else right now. Your face is contorted in bliss, mouth open on a nearly endless moan and your hips keep stuttering against his knee—the one he’s using to keep your thighs apart—craving for more friction.

It only takes a minute of the combined sensation on your nipples, one being sucked so thoroughly, circled and flicked with his warm tongue, and the other being teased endlessly by Bokuto’s tireless fingers for you to arch up, screaming, body straining as you come hard under him, wetting his thighs with your slick.

Amazed, Bokuto shoves his already wet hand down to your pussy. He looks like he is floating, the euphoric taste of your sweet milk combined with the nectar from your cunt hitting his taste buds.

Konoha just has to sit and stare from the gap between the sliding doors, mouths softly gaping, cock hard at the knowledge that the chemicals he has mixed into your sake must have induced it; proving that he can quite make your body do more, just like how he’s made you lactate like a cow.

And Bokuto just laps it all up as if he has any right to it.

Life is so unfair sometimes.

#tw stepcest #tw aphrodisiac #tw alcohol #tw lactation #bokuto smut #.bokuto!#.konoha!#.fukurodani!#.fics!#konoha smut #konoha x reader smut #bokuto x reader smut

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dorimena · 3 years

Note

Hello hello! Your blog is beautifully constructed. I hope there will be more dom reader blogs like yours in the future. If you aren’t busy could I please have g/n reader brat taming Bakugou or Shinsou? I’ll leave it up to you to decide. Remember to drink water!

Hello! Thank you! (´ ω `♡) I chose Bakugou, but I might do something similar for Shinsou later on huhu~ And thanks for the reminder! I hope you’re hydrated as well! ╰(*´︶`*)╯

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.5k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; gender neutral reader, impact play (not too hard though), brat taming, crying, mentioned overstimulation, implied edge play, paddle, dom!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; sex toy (cock ring), lowkey headcanon Bakugou being into impact play, some aftercare before round 2, mentioned safe word (cues like the traffic light colors), aged-up character, Bakugou is 18+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I hope you enjoy it notwhatiseem. I might’ve had to do some investigation, as I was unsure if my plan on how the story was going was a correct, or as correct, portrayal. Maybe in the near future Mr. Paddle will make a comeback-

𝕸𝖗. 𝕻𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖑𝖊

“Baby boy! What has gotten into you today?”

You scold Bakugou as he glares at you from the couch, arms crossed and body relaxed on the cushions as he tries not to show how his anger is making his body tremble.

Unlike you, because you’re quivering in anger, in utter disappointment with the stunt he decided to pull during the Bakusquad’s monthly game night.

It was a fun time, a casual time and place where everyone could leave behind their prohero responsibilities before somehow being dragged away to missions, patrols, paperwork, all the glorious hero work.

But Bakugou decided that this very night, in the very moment Kaminari ‘accidentally’ placed his hand on your thigh, that he’ll be a brat. A jealous brat, which is worse than his usual bratty behavior.

But he isn’t usually a brat? It’s confusing and a whiplash for you, not really expecting to punish him after months of him being so obedient, so nice, so docile with you and everything you wanted or needed.

“Answer me, Bakugou.”

Okay, that made him furrow his eyebrows in worry, wondering if he’s crossing a line, but that already happened the moment he began sassing back at you and insulting you. Not even playful banter, it was just outright rude and degrading.

He went against opening his mouth or talking in general, just huffing as he slouched a bit more into the couch, as if he wants the cushions to swallow him in or maybe he’s trying to keep riling up your mood.

“Sit up correctly.” You snapped, halting your pacing as you standing in front of him, hands on your hips as you take in his sitting position. He’s barely such a slouch; he’s taking this too far.

Or maybe you got too used to him being such a sweet baby boy that you forgot just how impatient you can sometimes get.

This is one of those times.

“You’re not gonna talk?”

He shakes his head. Well, at least he answered, but his posture remains the same.

Sighing, you leave the living room and head to the bedroom, rummaging through your closet to find- aha!

Bakugou, in the meantime, is trying not to let his nerves get to him, not wanting clammy palms and possibly causing more harm with his reactions. All he can hear is stuff being moved around in your shared bedroom and then hearing a small shout of victory.

But for what- wait, why the fuck did you take that out?!

“Alright, baby boy. I hope you remember Mr.Paddle. He will aid me in your punishment.”

No, no! Anything but the paddle! You’ve never used it, at all. Even if there were some close calls, you still never had it anywhere near his skin, or him. It was a gag gift you gave him out of the blue.

“No!” Bakugou yelled, getting on his feet as his arms fell on either side of him, eyes wide in shock and slight fear. How hard could you go with that? How bad will it hurt?

But your amused chuckle seems to make him even more confused. Aren’t you angry at him?

“So you speak when threatened, but not when spoken to nicely? I told you to sit correctly-”

“I will!”

“Baby boy.” Oh he’s done it. He interrupted you just as he was kind of redeeming himself.

Well, shit.

“I’m s-sorry…” He trailed off, slowly sitting down on the couch as he never loses eye contact with you, waiting to see if you’ll finally use the paddle or you’ll continue trying to talk things out.

But you made a good point: why does he only speak up when threatened with punishment instead of avoiding all of this anger?

“Baby boy. Today you’ve gotten bold with your actions and your words. But you’ve been terribly rude with Kaminari! Isn’t he your friend? What did he do wrong?”

You do know, but you wanted to hear it from him.

But Bakugou kept his silence, fidgeting on the seat as he battled his inner, mini Bakugous about the pros and cons of speaking up and answering.

The main pro is that he’ll be given attention.

The main con is that that attention will be given with the paddle.

Well, his pride be damned.

“He was touching you! I hate it when other people do!” He spoke out, voice raising in volume just a bit at the end, but he shyly whispered, “you of all people know how jealous I can get.”

“Oh~ so baby boy was jealous?”

He groaned, covering his face with his hands before taking them away in a flash, grimacing at how sweaty they are and how sweet it smells.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, goddamn it.”

“Language.”

He grumbled, pouting as he looked at you again, slowly averting his gaze to the paddle as it just stared back at him.

Why does he feel like even if he spoke, he’s going to get that touching him?

He was right after some time, his body moving forward with every hit you landed on his ass with the paddle, a cry of the number he’s on leaving his mouth as more drool lands on the bed, more tears wetting the sheets, more precum falling in stringy drips on the sheets.

He can’t even come to care about the rapidly dirty sheets, or even come to think about anything really. Not with how every smack he receives, the hornier he keeps getting. The tighter his hands grip the bed sheets, and if he were at least conscious with his actions, he would’ve heard fabric tearing up and smell a bit of burning.

Is he into this? Has he always been into this? Well, yes. But he didn’t think taking the paddle instead of your hand would be so much better.

God, please-

“H-harder! Please! H-hardeeeeer- ugh fuuuuuuuck.”

You snicker before rearing back into a serious expression.

“Excuse me? You’re not allowed to speak, baby. Keep counting.”

Bakugou groans before it ends in a sob, a weak ‘68’ coming out as you land the last spank on his bruising ass and a small ‘69’ squeaks out of his throat as he falls forward, face resting on a nearby pillow. And if you somehow catch his hips gyrate slowly against the bed and small, hoarse whines leave his body, you decide to ignore and let him come down from the high the way he usually does.

You’re quite surprised at how he hadn’t used his safe word, or any safe cues, within the spankings, and actually asked for you to go harder. But his bruises are enough to make you feel kind of bad, just a bit.

“You know,” you speak, throwing the paddle on the floor before rounding the bed, squatting to look at his tear stricken, blush decorated, sweat sticky face, “I knew you were a slut for impact play, but I didn’t think it’d be this much.”

Bakugou just mewls weakly, voice lost in his trance as he tried recollecting any thoughts of his, especially the coherent ones so he could speak. Even if they’re just curse words.

“Sh-shitty y-y/n…” He blinks a couple of times, trying to unblur his eyes with the tears that seem to stubbornly stay on his lash line.

“Th-think tha-at be ‘nough? Hah… y-yer cute.”

Blinking yourself, you stare as you shake your head. So he wants to act difficult today, huh?

“Oh baby, baby, baby. All you had to do was ask nicely instead of being mean to your friends. You know I would do anything to keep you happy, to please you.”

You reach to pet him, scratching his scalp as soothing as possible, watching as his eyes slowly come back to being sharp, the fuzz lingering leaving as his mouth twitches into a smile, a relaxed, serene smile as his once tense body slowly melts into the bed, the small shudders from the intensity of the situation for his body slowly disappearing as he lets out something close to a purr.

How cute, he thinks he’s off the hook.

“Since baby boy isn’t satisfied with what I gave him, guess I’ll just have to fuck the brattiness and attitude out of you, hm?”

You slowly lift your hand, standing up as you go back to the closet, leaving him with enough time to gather his thoughts back together and come to realize how you’ve tricked him, how you’re not even done yet, how he’s still gonna get punished.

But, he loves overstimulation? How is that punishing?

“Oh! Forgot to mention: you’ll be wearing this until I feel like taking it off, okay?”

And in his line of vision is his cock ring, the horrible toy that vibrates in teasing tempos and makes him pathetically cum, humiliating him. God he hates that fucking thing.

He growls lowly, as if he’d have a threat ready between his teeth, but then you flipped him over gently, the coolness of the sheets soothing his ass as you flick one of his nipples.

He whimpers, puffing his chest out more for you to keep playing with.

“What’s your color right now, Katsuki?”

“Green m-master.”

#notwhatiseem #✿; impurity #bnha smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki smut #mha smut #𝖇𝖆𝖐𝖚𝖌𝖔𝖚 #ლ; blasphemy

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vicious-vixxxen · 3 years

Text

Kirishima x Male!Reader: First ‘I Love You’

I’m back on my Kirishima shit, so just bare with me- he really is one of my fav bois, and he’s just so sweet, can you even blame me? Though I’m almost finished with season 4 finally, and Tamaki is quickly closing in as the bestest sweet boi ;) But yes, enjoy this little blurb, as I continue working on actual prompt fills- I just keep getting distracted, don’t @ Me Enjoy <3 Kirishima x Male!Reader

Saturday nights in the dorms usually went one of two ways. Most of, if not all of class 1A were walking corpses, after accepting an extra day of training, not often offered by Aizawa in the first place: which is why they all usually accepted. Though that usually meant back at the dorms by two, and once everyone was showered, given a chance to finally catch their breath, and come together to make dinner, it was pushing six, and by then everyone was taking a note out of Bakugou’s book and crashing early. Some not even making it back to their rooms- sprawling out across the common area, and groggily rising too early the next morning, stiff necked and a little grumpy. /But/, if classes let out normally on Friday, and everyone was in bed at a reasonable enough time, Saturday’s were the absolute SHIT. A group breakfast to start, always. Bakugou aggressively whipping together a horde of spicy cinnamon french toast, and bacon, everyone stuffing their faces, discussing the previous week’s accomplishments. Areas in need of improvement, etcetera. Though without the added pressure of being in the midst of classes, and homework. They could reflect calmly, gather and offer tips, all smiles and jokes and general good naturedness. After breakfast, everyone split off to get ready for the day. Keeping the dorm stocked was a responsibility up to you all, which meant splitting the allotted weekly allowance the class was given, and separating into groups to get all the shopping for the coming week done. Groceries, cleaning supplies, toiletries, /unmentionables/. You all worked as a group, and allowing for a few stray hours of wandering, and personal shopping, visiting with family, you’d all be back around five. With the groceries put away, all errands run, the dorm dissolved into pure chaos. Different types of music blaring from individual rooms- dance dance revolution set up in the common room, the loudest of them all- all the dorm room doors open, save for Tokoyami’s, of course- and passing by any would give you a curious glimpse into the comfortable life the occupants had taken up there. “Wanna help me...ya know?” Kiri whispered into your ear, standing behind the sofa, bent down to nuzzle your temple, and speak. Blushing lightly, and giving you a sharp, lopsided grin as you broke your gaze from Denki’s...bold choice in dance movements against Mina. Noting Kirishima’s gaze moving up and down, before he jerked his head back in the direction of his room. Oh. Guess it was time for a touch up, huh?

Grin to match, you nodded, taking Kiri’s hand when he offered it, and allowing him to tug you up and over the sofa, nearly tripping over each other in your haste to get back to his room. Thirty minutes later, with a look of concentration on your face, you gently applied hair dye to the other boy’s roots. Hips swaying left and right, as Kirishima tapped his feet, and played air drums dramatically- making it difficult, but not impossible for you to get at all his roots. This was routine at this point. Ever since the two of you had started dating the year before, Kirishima was quick to let you in on his hair care secrets. It was only a matter of time before you caught him with a little bit of black peeking through, so rip the bandaid off all at once, Kirishima thought. It really was adorable how concerned he’d been over it. Muttering like Midoriya, before standing tall and announcing you’d have to love him for his box dye, or not at all! And here you were. Touching up his roots for maybe the hundredth time? If he needed any more clarification. The moron. But he was your moron. Getting more aggressive in his drumming, no doubt trying to mimic Bakugou in his mind, the hopeless goof. You smiled, despite yourself, as the song switched over, and you tilted Kirishima’s head back to get at the front you’d sectioned off. Mouthing the remix down at your boyfriend, and closing your eyes briefly as the beat pumped, and your body felt relaxed enough to collapse. But in a totally cool way, not like, a narcoleptic way. You hoped. ‘I will always love you,” you breathed in time, voice barely audible over the array of noises in, and outside of the dorm, but Kirishima watched, enraptured, mouth slightly agape as he read your lips. ’-I’ll love you forever’ you continued. Opening your eyes again, and staring down at Kiri’s. Breath hitching as you took in his pure, unadulterated admiration. And…. “Mmph!” Kirishima hummed suddenly, against your lips, as you’d leaned down to kiss him- both of you giggling against each other’s lips afterwards, as you moved around him. Careful of your gloved hands, and the brush of dye in hand, as you straddled the boys lap, and scooted forward till you were comfortable. Kirishima’s hands instinctively coming to rest on your waist. Palms sliding up and around to rub your back, as you continued applying dye top his hair. The two of you were quiet after, taking in the sounds of the dorms, and feeling the music blaring through Kirishima’s radio. Until you’d finished applying the dye, finally, and set your tools aside. Peeling off your gloves, and wiggling your sweaty fingers in Kiri’s face. Laughing suddenly as he nipped at them with sharp teeth. “That felt like a threat,” You teased, wrinkling your nose cutely at your boyfriend- Kirishima, ever the fan of the expression, beaming up at you, and kissing at your collarbone, where your shirt had ridden down. “That’s me, the boyfriend eater. Hide your boyfriends or i’ll gobble em up, all manly like”, Kiri boasted, and you couldn’t help but snort- having to restrain yourself from running your hands through his hair. For now. “We both know you’re tasty enough,” Kirishima added, winking at you, and you rolled your eyes, smacking the boys chest gently, before wrapping your arms carefully around his neck, and shifting back and forth in his lap to the new rhythm from the radio. At some point though, as you stared down at Kirishima- matching grins on your faces, as Kiri raised a hand to boop at your nose, and your lips, something hot, and happy ran through you. A sudden realization, as you stared into those gorgeous red pools he called eyes. It seared through you, racing down your spine, and jolting you up in your boyfriend's lap so suddenly, he paused- always on red alert, brows raised in question. It had never been something either of you had worried about saying- had never even truly discussed it. You cared about each other deeply, your connection since beginning your journeys at UA unprecedented. You’d watched each other grow, been there for the ride. Helped each other. Loved each other. Because you did love Kirishima. And he knew that...but not until just then, the scent of dye clinging to the air, did you realize you were, in fact, in love with him. You were in love with Kirishima. Wow. Your face was unreadable for a few long moments, before you huffed- almost in disbelief- and kissed at Kiri’s questioning thumb, now brushing along your jaw, and lips. “What? Kirishima asked finally, unable to take the silence. “Just realizing how absolutely, unequivocally in love I am with you. Kinda jarring,” You admitted, candid as ever, noting the way Kirishima froze beneath you. Mouth agape, and eyes wide. “Was that lame?” You asked as an afterthought, lips slowly pulling into a grin as Kirishima opened and closed his mouth several times, before his hands found their way up and around your jaw. Hesitating again, just a moment, as through the process what he;d just heard once more- before smashing your lips together. Heat, and passion, and love, all pouring into that one intimate gesture, and fuck it. Your hands carded through the sticky red dye clinging to the boy's roots, as you kissed back. Kissing until you absolutely couldn’t breathe anymore, and breaking away to pant, though only centimeters away from each other’s mouths. Foreheads pressed together, red dye smearing between the two of them, completely forgotten. “I love you too,” Kirishima sighed, hugging you close, and peppering your face with kisses. “So, so much. Love you so much, holy- I love you? Haha! I love you! I love you!” He shouted, bringing a deep blush to your cheeks, almost as red as your forehead now was as you wondered idly if anyone could hear him. Until you realized, you didn’t give one shit if they did. “I love you too! Again!” You shouted back, bursting into a fit of laughter with Kirishima, as you kissed again. And again, and again, and again.

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #eijiro kirishima #kirishima #eijiro kirishima imagine #eijiro kirishima x male reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima x male reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima imagine #viciousvixxxen

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chilly-me-softly · 3 years

Note

fluff alphabet for jordan (henderson)

This is my first alphabet so hope I did it right and that you like it! x

A - APRON

Jordan wasn't the best cook in the world, he kept it simple and always made the same recipes sure that the result was more than acceptable. And you loved to see him in action, from the moment he put on his apron until he got to the cooker, his expression always focused as if he were in the middle of a surgical operation. And then his eagerness to know if it was good, the smile on his face when you complimented him, him enormously pleased with himself.

B - BALL

Of course he always has a ball between his feet, many times urging you to play with him. And you're not a professional player at his level, but you certainly manage to distract him in other ways...

C - CUDDLE

After a day of practice what better thing than holding you in his arms while you tell him what happened while he was gone or anything else that comes to mind. Your voice is better than any relaxing drink, so much so that many times he has closed his eyes without even noticing.

But it's the little circles you draw on his arm, the light kisses you leave on his chin from time to time that make his night. Because no matter how much he likes being around the boys, no one pampers him like you do.

D - DINOSAUR

The little dinosaur is supposed to be for your son, but ever since it was given to you, it keeps you company when you're alone. Or even to annoy Jordan as he often complains that you spend more time hugging that soft toy than he does.

"I swear, as soon as he's born, I'll let him have it"

"If you say so" Jordan strokes your eight month old baby bump with a smile on his face, "did you hear mommy? She'll leave you her toys" he leaves a light kiss on your belly as you gasp hitting him with the dinosaur head.

"You're really mean Jordan, go away I never want to see you again" you put on a fake pout as he looks at you softly getting up to be at your height.

"How about you keep this dinosaur, and our son gets another one? You can match"

"I don't need a stuffed animal, I'm a big girl now" but you don't believe it either, him raising an eyebrow clearly amused and you hitting him with the dinosaur again.

E - EXERCISE

Even on his days off Jordan had to work out, the home gym built for the occasion. And he loves showing off for you, when you go to sit on a bench and your gaze settles on his toned, sweaty body.

"Like what you see?" he sneers, gently passing the towel over his face and then laying it on your shoulders, you rolling your eyes faking nonchalance.

"Please my lover is in better shape"

"Oh yeah?" Jordan walks over trapping your legs against the bench and starting to lie on top of you.

"No Jordan you're sticky" you try to desist but he's already on your lips. So you draw him to you by the neck, the thin layer of clothing separating you starting to get annoying.

F - FAMILY PHOTO

Jordan literally loves family photos, a big one of you just on the fireplace. He claims that every year you have to redo it because you all change so much, especially the little ones. Plus that year there is a new member of the family so it has to be redone.

You smile, arranging the ribbon around the baby's head in your arms as a three-year-old runs past your side almost tripping.

"Careful" you sigh, "Come on come over here next to us so we can take the picture and then you can go play" you don't know how he hasn't gotten dirty in some way yet. Jordan and the light shirt obsession. It's cute but totally not appropriate for a vulcano like your kid.

Finally Jordan arrives after talking to the photographer about the shots, wrapping an arm around you briefly. He places a kiss on your temple and the forehead of the little one in your arms before stopping the baby who was about to run away again.

"Just two minutes okay?" he smiles, crouching down and resting his hands on the kid's shoulders, smoothing down his jacket and adjusting his little bow tie before guiding him back to his seat.

And at the end of the week all you have to do is choose the best photo.

G - GETAWAY

Especially in summer you used to disappear to spend some time alone away from schedules, appointments, dinners to attend, families. Nothing was better than disconnecting, just you and Jordan relaxing in a secluded place or being tourists in some unknown location. You did everything you could to keep your mind off your troubles for even a couple of nights and it was always worth it.

H - HUG

All you had to do was say that word and Jordan would drop what he was doing, his arms gently around your body. Sometimes you did it just for the sake of it, but most of the time you just felt the need to be held and he was almost always there to satisfy you.

I - ILL

Sick Jordan was absolutely something. His unkempt state, his bright eyes and his drawling smile made him so cute in your eyes even though he felt like crap.

"Stop looking at me like that" he complains as he always does trying to hide his head somewhere while you smile.

"I'm not doing anything"

"You're looking at me" his voice comes muffled from under the pillow as you try to take it off, stroking his slightly damp hair. You liked taking care of him for once, even if it meant he wasn't at his best. He always seemed so strong, always available for you and that was one of the few times you could somehow return the favour.

He got annoying but you couldn't really take it out on him, could you?!

J - JORDAN

You didn't use nicknames, his name was good like that and you didn't need to change it or not use it at all. And he loved to hear his name coming from you. With hilarity when you were having fun; with sweetness in intimate moments; and yet angry, joking, alarmed, every possible nuance brought a smile to his face.

K - KEY

You were having breakfast one morning, you were enjoying your bowl of cereal while his had become un-eatable by now as he kept throwing you glances not caring about it.

He continues to twist something between the fingers of the hand he has hidden from your view when suddenly Jordan reaches across the table, sliding something towards you. A key.

"This is the house key. I wanted to... well give it to you but don't feel pressured in any way" he doesn't know exactly what he's nervous about, many times he's left you his keys to get in or when he was out of town for emergencies. But you looking at him motionless certainly doesn't help him. Has he made a mistake?

"You're giving me the key to your house?" your gaze on that object, incredulous, not touching it as if it might shock you. "Really?" you always had his keys on loan, having your own meant he trusted you enough to let you into his space even unannounced, or that you wouldn't lose it and risk someone else finding it. It was a really great gesture.

"Yeah I mean I thought you could have your own copy, and use it even when I'm here" a huge smile breaks across your face as you stand up going to sit on Jordan's lap, him scooting his chair further back to allow you to be more comfortable.

"That's...I have no words. Just thank you"

"I like the idea of coming home to find you already comfortable"

"Oh I surely will" you chuckle as you finally take that key in your hands, snapping to your feet causing a confused expression to appear on Jordan's face as you leave for the door.

"I forgot something" you walk back inside using the key and going straight to leave a kiss on his lips as he stands up immediately wrapping his arms around your body. "Are you crazy? It's so cold out there"

"I have a key now" you state with satisfaction as you cling to him.

L - LAUGH

Definitely his trademark, you can recognise it even with your eyes closed. You couldn't be more different than that, you always trying to be as quiet as possible while he was always so loud. But you couldn't help but be mesmerised by his face when he laughed, from his squinted eyes to his head thrown back.

"If I were to lose my memory, I'm sure your laugh would make me remember you" a soft smile on your face as you looked up at him slightly from below lying on his chest as he raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? Why would you lose your memory?"

"I said if, it's a scenario" you roll your eyes pouting, him quickly running his thumb over your lips to remove it.

"Why do you always have to be so tragic?"

"Ugh Jordan it was a compliment, it's not my fault you don't get it" and that laugh is always there to fill your heart.

M - MATCHDAY

Every home game Jordan is sure to have you at the stadium cheering for him. Over the years that has never changed, only skipping games when you weren't feeling well or when you were really pregnant and Jordan would be more concerned about you and your safety than the outcome of the game.

A little unspoken routine between you, him always leaving home early no matter the kick off time to review tactics and you sending him a text to wish him luck with a picture of you - and later a picture of you and the kids - wearing his jersey.

After the match regardless of the result and after he has done any interviews, here you are together sharing a short but sweet moment. You remind him how proud you are of him, the children want to go and play on the pitch.

N - NOSE

His nose brushes your neck as he snuggles up against you to rest; his nose brushes yours gently in an Eskimo kiss before he makes your lips connect; his nose brushes your skin after you have just stepped out of the shower. You often teased him by saying he looked like a tracker but you liked that little attention, the build up to what came next.

O - OLD

You always tease him by claiming he's getting old, sprawled out on the couch after spending half an hour chasing his son completely out of energy while the kid would happily take another ten thousand steps in the backyard.

"If I'm old then so are you, you know that don't you?"

"Yeah" you shrug, "but I'm still younger than you"

P - PIXEL

It's no secret that Jordan travels a lot during the year, your pixilated face seen more times than he'd like. But you don't hold it against him, besides being work it's his dream and moving around so much means he's living it to the fullest; that he's required and indispensable to the team besides being its captain of course.

You have learned to live the moments when you are together, to cheer and not waste it. And every time he stops to look at you while you're sleeping by his side or even just at any other time, he can't stop remembering how much those pixels don't really do you justice.

R - RING

It was a normal day in your life when you realised as a teenager that you had a thing for guys' hands, and if they had rings for some reason it was a bonus.

And many times you'd literally froze as you stared at Jordan's hands moving as he talked or wrote or cooked, the addition of that ring after your wedding didn't help the cause. You were brought back down to earth by his laughter because it was always surprising how one minute you were actively participating in the conversation and the next you were like in trance.

S - SAFE

You don't think you've ever told him verbally but you were lucky enough to have met him. Jordan makes you feel safe and you don't talk about the need to be defended from the bad. You know that with Jordan you can talk about whatever is on your mind without fear of being judged, you know he will always be there for you no matter what. You're immediately heartened by the reminder that he's by your side because any moment is less hard if the right person is by your side.

T - TOMORROW

It is something you often talk about, tomorrow. Everything is unpredictable, you never wanted to make long-term plans because you never know what might happen but only one thing you know for sure that you want Jordan by your side. And your idea matches his.

"You are my tomorrow and as long as I wake up with you by my side I will have a reason to smile"

U - UNIVERSE

"You are my universe"

"Stop it"

"But you are, why wouldn't I tell you" he chuckles as you hit him trying to hide your face.

You are one who is always on the move, always available for others but at the same time doesn't know how to react to compliments. You do what you do not to be praised or anything else but just because you feel like it and every time after a compliment of any kind any word would seem unnecessary, making you stand in front of that person smiling embarrassed making you feel uncomfortable. There, if you had to find a word to describe it you could say that compliments make you uncomfortable.

And Jordan knows this very well, but every now and then when you're alone he starts showering you with compliments and sweet phrases for the sake of it. But the truth is that he likes it when you blush, your cheeks turning red as you do your best not to look him in the eye or hide your face in your hands.

V - VOWS

It seemed years away, but your wedding day had arrived overwhelmingly. You couldn't wait to experience that day and those emotions to the fullest. The thing that had been most challenging for you was the vows, so many things to say without finding the right words. Everything seemed already said, obvious, not perfect and several times you had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown for that small detail.

But on your wedding day, no one around you exists anymore. There's just you and Jordan and your hearts full of love for each other, his thumb caressing the back of your hand for support. You almost forget what you've been struggling to write over those last few months, the words that come easily from your lips just by looking into his eyes.

W - WINNER

Winner takes it all. Jordan watches from afar as you joke with some of his teammates and the only thing he can think about is how that year just ended was one of the most amazing of his life so far, both professionally and in his personal life. He had achieved extraordinary goals with the team, broken records and set new ones. And then he had you who had given him a child a few months earlier and he felt like a winner.

Y - YUMMY

"Yeah that's yummy" Jordan watches his baby close his mouth around the spoon and then bring his thumb to his mouth getting messy with his own food.

"Why do you do that hm? Why?" his tone of voice only makes the child laugh as he waits for another bite clapping his hands on the high chair. Jordan quickly satisfies him seeing the same scene repeat itself, the little hands that have now become sticky and are getting everything they touch dirty like they always do at feeding time.

Z - ZOOM

His professionalism never fails to amaze you as you watch him from afar managing to handle questions in front of a computer. It will be the third interview in which he's asked the same things over and over again and you have never seen him make any gesture of tiredness or annoyance. And you are waiting for him to finally get up from that chair to wrap him in your arm and give him the right amount of pampering he needs to clear his head of everything.

#thank you anon #jordan henderson #jordan henderson blurb

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gravityflops · 3 years

Text

Parent Guidance Recommended

word count: 3,281

focus characters: Pacifica Northwest, Fiddleford H. McGucket

warnings: child neglect, implications of alcoholism, implications of infidelity, mugging, knives, threatening, generally awful people

summary: On the worst birthday she’s ever had, Pacifica finds herself seeking support from a source she’d least expect; the new owner of the once-Northwest Manor, her own former home.

Pacifica was turning fourteen on the Fourth of July. A perfect birthday. Perfect girl. Perfect family.

Her parents would throw a party. Like any Northwest party, with gorgeous, itchy lace ball gowns and impeccable etiquette, each word in every conversation spoken with flawless flow, with purposeful posture and respect-demanding mannerisms. A perfect party for perfect people, with perfect food prepared.

After claiming her designated ruby-studded chair at the dinner table, she would be shocked when her plate was revealed to her. Deep-fried Roareos. Stacked in a small sweet-powdered delicious heap in front of her, chocolately, cream-filled cookies, dipped in batter and deep-fried to perfection. Sugary. Messy. Pacifica had never had it before. How did her parents know she wanted to try it?

She turned her head to cast a quizzical look to her parents, who’d been watching her, holding each other with loving smiles directed at her. A warm feeling spread inside her like warm butter. She reached for a fork.. but hesitated, and hovered her hand over the plate instead. She casted another glance at her parents to see their reaction. No cold response was elicited so far. In fact, she could have sworn her father nodded in approval.

She delicately picked one of the cookies up with her thumb and forefinger, and raised it to her lips to nibble at it. Her senses were flooded with warm, sweet goodness. Just as amazing as she imagined. She stuffed the rest in her mouth, going so far as to lick her fingers. Her lips were coated with melted cream. She neglected the napkins beside her plate to instead lick the sugar mixture from her lips. Barbaric. But her parents didn’t seem to mind either of the actions. She thought she even heard an amused giggle from her mother.

“Sweetie, would you like your presents now or after you’re finished?” Priscilla— no, this was Mom— asked. Pacifica paused. She had a say? Were they not on a schedule? She supposed if she was given the option, she would love to open gifts while she snacked on the rest of the Roareos.

“Now, please,” the young blond girl responded. On cue, one of the butlers was beside her, placing a neatly-packaged gift box on her lap. A beautiful purple silk ribbon sat on top, holding it together. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt so eager to reveal its contents.

What was inside? Some comfy clothes? Paint, perhaps? A cute animal plush that would contrast the creepy porcelain dolls in her room? The possibilities were endless.

Delightfully, she tugged at it. The box opened. As she peered inside, her excitement dissolved. The warm feeling turned to ice.

The bell. The one her father carried on his person at all times. The one that willed his command in the mansion. The one Pacifica hated. Suddenly Preston was standing over her, slowly picking the bronze item up.

Loving smile gone, replaced with a disapproving, even disgusted scowl. She shrank in her seat.

“Pacifica Elise Northwest,” he boomed. “So it’s true. You’re mingling with the common, ignoble crowds these days.”

“No!” she found herself crying out. “It’s not like that! I have to!”

“Have to what? Work a lowly job as a waitress in that slobbish cesspit? At that- that disgusting, sorry excuse for a dining destination? THAT’S NOT ACCEPTABLE EVER. How can you call yourself a Northwest? How can you call yourself our daughter?”

The very first thought she woke up to was that it was too good to be real.

Tangled in her sheets, warm tears trickling down her cheeks. She sniffled and quickly wiped them away before slipping out of bed.

The house was dark. Silent. The clock on the wall read 7:52. Her parents’ bedroom was empty as she passed. It smelled of wine. They would not be back for a while. Pacifica found herself releasing a sigh, her tension easing a little, even if that meant she’d be spending her birthday alone for the very first time. She leaned against the doorframe and closed her eyes, trying to recall the good part of the dream, trying to revive the taste of the sugary treat, but it was gone. Soured by the unreality of it. All it was doing was making her hungry belly ache.

When checking the refrigerator, cabinets and pantry and coming to the realization that all that was left was a loaf of bread, a half-empty tube of Bringles and a couple dinner kits. No breakfast food. Not even a single egg. Not even leftovers. Something like despair and disappointment blossomed inside her. She would have to eat at the diner again…

She snagged her wallet from the counter only to find her twenty had disappeared, leaving only a couple measly ones and fives and whatever coins were loose inside. She felt the tears building a little again and slapped the wallet shut to try to stifle them. There was a time she had nearly everything, but now after Weirdmaggedon, she couldn’t even trust that her own hard-earned cash wouldn’t be snagged if left around her own greedy birthgivers. Her strength was being sapped by the will not to burst into a sobbing fit. There was enough in there to cover breakfast at work when she got to Greasy’s, at least.

With her belly still growling, she changed out of her nightwear, threw on her apron and a pair of aviators and began the walk to work.

The day was a bright one, sunny and a little breezy. A pleasant temperature. It did not reflect how Pacifica felt. Despite the summer weather, she pulled her scarf over her head, casting shade over her face. The neighborhood streets were mostly void of people, every house gated off. Just because they lost the mansion did not mean the Northwests were living in squalor, but her spending money was strictly monitored. Her parents now enforced that any money she spent, she’d have to earn. A fourteen year old. A child. Just so her birthgivers could ensure a few extra dollars in their account.

Pacifica couldn’t help but feel the fanciness of the neighborhood was almost deceitful. Her own household was a prime example. Her own rumbling tummy was a prime example. She wondered if there were others who lived in these houses that had similar problems as hers. Unlikely here.. however there were definitely others, people who’d been pushed to extremes just to get by.

Whether that was the reason behind why Pacifica soon found herself being followed halfway through the trip, she didn’t know. The feeling of being watched intensified by the minute, and glances into the reflections of shop windows told her there was a person. They refused to let up for at least a couple of blocks, the likelihood that they were just going the same direction by chance was steadily decreasing. They probably saw her leaving the wealthier neighborhood. The young girl picked up her pace. It did her no good.

The next moments were a blur. Her arm was snatched. When she struggled, a slice put a stop to it. Her arm began to bleed. Something sharp pressed to her throat, stiffening every muscle in her body. Vulgar language was hurled at her, demanding cooperation before her purse was yanked from her shoulder, and she was thrown to the curb. She was left winded, bruised, panicked and hyperventilating. She struggled for her breath back.

Mugged. She’d been mugged for the few measly dollars she had on her. And the fact that her first thought after all that was concern for what her parents would think that she let those precious dollars be nicked in the first place.. it only increased her distraught. Her breaths hastened more and more, and she didn’t realize her tears had finally started to flow until she was already sprinting down the street, her vision muddled. Every step felt like thunder to her ears. Home. She just wanted to go home. Maybe she couldn’t be herself as much, and maybe she was always busy, under constant supervision. But at least there was stability. At least there was certainty of the future. At least it was comfortable, at least there was always food on the table, breakfast, lunch and dinner. At least her father never stumbled around reeking of alcohol while only Lord knew where her mother was. Maybe her parents weren’t the best to other people but at least she could be certain they were true to each other. At least she could pretend everything was fine.

Pacifica wasn’t sure how far she’d gone. She was sweaty, she felt gross and sticky. Her legs were sore, threatening to give out if she went any further. She was still bleeding. She ached everywhere. But she’d reached her destination. She stood at the bottom of a familiar, long driveway, and at the top, sitting on a large hill, towering over the town stood the proud family mansion. Waves of nostalgia and sorrow crashed over her. Everything felt so gross. Every memory tainted by the knowledge of her parents’ true nature. She couldn’t even speak to anyone, not even her parents. Who would listen to a rich brat whine about how she used to be richer? Certainly not any of the townsfolk.

She found herself staring at the manor for a while, not entirely sure what to do.

“...What am I doing here…?” Pacifica whispered, sniffling and reaching for the tissues she kept in her purse, only to be hit with the whirlwind of events that had just happened again. Her arm stung. She could barely hold herself upright. She felt so… so tired. She meekly wiped her nose on her sleeve, and started to turn around when suddenly she bumped into someone.

“Wo-ah there, kiddo, careful, better watch where ya—” a cheerful voice piped, before cutting itself off when the sight of Pacifica in her disheveled state registered. “Huh? Hey.. Ah’ know you.”

Color drained from Pacifica’s cheeks. This guy again.. Why was he here? She quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks as she tried a witty remark, but — “Y-y-ea-h, well-, wh-o w-ou-uldn’-t-” — ultimately failing when her quivering body wouldn’t stop heaving sobs. Again she sniffled. Disgusting. In front of the hillbilly too.

McGucket’s face morphed into something like sympathy. He kneeled down to her height. “Ah- hey, what’s goin’ on kiddo? Are ya alright?”

Pacifica parted her lips. She wanted to say yes. Her instincts screamed at her to say yes. She could practically hear her birthgivers demanding her to say yes. She had to be perfect. She had to be flawless. She had to be stoic, proud, happy, for her family.

But that’s not what came out.

“n-NO!” she cried, her knees finally buckling as if the years of abuse weighing down on her shoulders finally came crashing down on top of her. Her face buried in her hands, sobbing violently into them. She wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay. Wails and cries escaped. She couldn’t stop the tears anymore. She was in so much pain, she was so alone. The sobs wouldn’t stop. The raging storm of emotion only continued to demolish her walls, clawing at her pride and self esteem. Everything she pretended to be crashed and burned at that moment.

Fiddleford had been a little stunned by the sudden breakdown, but he started to piece the situation together from the bits and pieces the poor girl was babbling. He didn’t get up and walk away like Pacifica was expecting him to. He stayed put, even placed his hand on her shoulder to try to console her. When she didn’t flinch away from him, the old man started rubbing circles on her back as she cried and cried. Fiddleford never was the best at comfort.. though he could only imagine how long this outburst had been bottled up, and he thought it best that Pacifica let it all out before trying to say anything.

It was a while before Pacifica’s sobs began to calm enough to allow her to speak in more coherent sentences. The story became clearer. She spoke about how her parents had mistreated her, like she was an accessory rather than a human being, a literal child. How things had been getting worse this past year since they were forced to move due to her father’s irresponsible stock market decisions during Weirdmaggedon, to preserve what fortune they had left. How she felt more at home at the diner than she ever did at her own residence. How she hardly saw her parents anymore. How everything had changed for the worst. The way her parents had become about money, even how they scolded her for ‘nagging’ about her birthday the previous day, when it had been the first time she brought it up in half a year. It all hurt terribly to speak of but Pacifica couldn’t help but notice the sudden weightless feeling after getting everything out. She was surprised to find Old Man McGucket was still listening.

“Y’know,” he spoke finally, “Ah knew a fella once who thought ‘e had everythin’ before ‘e lost it all too. ‘Should’a been there for ‘im like he needed.”

Pacifica was quiet for a moment. “..W..ho was he?”

Fiddleford only waved his hand. “Ol’ college buddy. Doin’ mighty fine these days. Now whaddya say we get off’a the street an’ patch up that lil’ ol’ scratch a’ yours inside?”

It tooka moment to register the question through his southern accent, but when she did, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “..I- inside..?”

Inside the mansion. Pacifica almost couldn’t believe it. Old Man McGucket was the one that bought the Northwest Manor. She wondered how on earth a former homeless man was possibly able to afford such a grand purchase, until peeks into a couple rooms along the hallway that had been filled with computers and strange machinery told her she didn’t know nearly as much about McGucket as she previously thought.

It was so strange walking through the hallways again. Everything was the same, but different. Was the grand rustic architecture and furniture always so beautiful? And… were those.. raccoons she was spotting out of the corner of her eyes?

McGucket led her to a room with a couch- a familiar silver-themed room with a certain carpet pattern. It looked nearly the same, except for the banjo leaning against the couch’s armrest, and maybe a few more stains than its previous flawless condition “for guests- that is, for guests to look at”. Despite her emotional state, she found herself smiling at the memory of her adventures with Dipper Pines, trying to bust that ghost… until she recalled the punishment her parents had made for her after that was all over. She began to feel a little sick. Her gaze dropped to the floor as McGucket trudged into the room, plopped onto the couch and patted the cushions beside him. Hesitantly, she followed him and did as gestured. It was.. weird to be back. She wiped her eyes again.

“How’d that’a happen?”

“..What?” the question hit her like a slap.

“The cut.” He gestured to the bleeding injury with a bandaged hand.

“...Oh.” Again, her gaze dropped. Her eyes began to mist again before she shut them. “..I-I.. I was.. um.. mugged on the way here… They stole my favorite purse…” Shame burned at her belly. She didn’t see any sign of judgement in McGucket’s reaction, though. He didn’t ask why she let that happen, or why she wasn’t responsible enough to bring someone with her. There was only concern for her.

“Oh.. ‘Ahm sorry that’a happened. Gravity Falls’s usually safe.. er- ah..” The old man scratched the back of his head. “‘least, it’s not the people ya gotta usually worry ‘bout.”

“Heh.. yeah..” Shrugging, the old man pulled out a full-blown first aid kid, temporarily baffling Pacifica for a moment. “Wai- were you just carrying that—?”

The question went without a response as McGucket went straight to disinfecting the cut. “‘Doesn’t look terri-bubly deep,” he piped. “Should’a stopped bleeding by now but we’ll patch it up ta’ keep it safe while it’s a-healin’.”

“Wait.. how do you know how to do this..?” Pacifica asked, furrowing her eyebrows a little. The old man gave her a cheery grin.

“Well, ‘gotta pick up somethin’ ‘bout it after livin’ in the dump buildin’ evil whatsits and thingamajigs outta rusty metal for a couple’a decades.”

..Oh. Well, that would make sense, she supposed.. Briefly, the question as to why he was being so nice to her after the way she and her family treated him crossed her mind. She wondered if that friend he mentioned had something to do with it… Suddenly she found herself wishing she’d paid closer attention to the details of the relationships between the other people involved in the zodiac. She guessed it could be that hotter Mr. Pines (or.. Dr. Pines?), she recalled seeing some kind of emotional exchange between him and McGucket during Weirdmaggedon.

Occupied with her thoughts, she hardly realized McGucket had completely finished with the bandage until he announced it.

“Done!” he cheered, stuffing the first aid kit back into the oblivion from which it came. Weird. More Gravity Falls weirdness. “...Thanks.”

“Anytime, sweetie. Y’always got’a listenin’ ear right here if ya’ need it.”

Pacifica gave him a small, grateful smile. The old man would never know what that meant to her.

“I.. I don’t know..” she sighed softly. “Today was just… awful… It’s the first birthday I’ll be spending alone, and I guess it’s… getting to me…”

“Yer birthday’s today?? Ah, Ah’m sorry, sugerbun,” McGucket spoke. “Awful break, goin’ through somethin’ like a’this on’a birthday mornin’. Say, ya always got a place right ‘ere if ya need. Plenty a’ empty bedrooms.”

Pacifica raised her head. “...R...Really..?”

McGucket beamed. “Why sure! Ya remind me a’ my lil’ Tator Tot, Ah’ miss ‘em somethin’ terrible. It gets a lil’ lonely in this ‘ere big ol’ mansion sometimes and ah wouldn’t mind a visit from some young folk from a’time ta’ time.”

She could… she could visit. Whenever she wanted? Her old home, without her parents around. McGucket was that okay with her? Even going so far as to compare her to (presumably) his own kid? That was… incredible. Before thinking it through, she threw her arms around the old man, chorusing her ‘thank you’s with a bubble of laughter. Though startled, Fiddleford slowly returned the hug with a warm smile.

He stank quite a bit. Pacifica recoiled a little at the realization of what she was doing. Ew. What would people think of her if they caught her doing something so unthinkable? Willingly embracing this stinky old man who…. gave incredible hugs.. Her concern suddenly dissolved. In its stead, a certain safety appeared, and she melted into it a little more. It was the same feeling she craved in her dreams. Dirt didn’t matter at all anymore. The feeling of a parental embrace shielding her from the unpleasantness of the world was all she could bring herself to care about at that moment. It felt so warm… Before she knew it, she was tearing up again.

“...Thank you, McGucket..”

“Heheh, anytime, sugarbun. Say, since it is yer birthday, whaddya say we hit th’ town an’ find somethin’ ta’ cheer ya up?”

Pacifica wiped her eyes with her palm. What an offer... To think a year ago she would never had even considered walking around with the old kook as a possible option, but.. She found herself looking forward to it. “I… I would love that.”

[Part 1 of ??? possibly 2??]

#this totally isn’t a vent piece for the nightmares i keep waking up from skdhkdbd #i’ll prolly write the second part. soon #my writing #gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls fic #pacifica northwest #gravity falls pacifica #fiddleford mcgucket #gravity falls mcgucket #found family #angst with a happy ending #comfort

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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

Note

some ian/mickey prompts! (this is not a demand, just some ideas☺️)

• waking up/going to sleep

• cuddling

• domestic scenes in general

• hurt/comfort scenarios

• being in each other’s company (like ur recent fic) and falling in love with each other again

I really don’t know how to describe but I hope these are enough?

<3 ah thank u so much for these ideas anon! i couldn’t fall asleep last night bc i was stressed about a bunch of stuff, so i started to write this little bit of nighttime fluff that seems to fit with your requests:) i hope u enjoy!!

a drabble where ian can’t sleep, and mickey comforts him (can be set as a little coda to 11x05)

It was the dead of night at the Gallagher house— Ian was staring up at the ceiling, his eyes trying pierce through the blanket of darkness to count the cracks in the crumbling plaster above him and listening for something, anything, to distract his mind and finally get him to go the fuck to sleep. But it was no use— it was so late that even the usual summer chatter that bubbled up from the South Side street corners into open windows on wafts of summer air had stilled, leaving Ian sweaty and tired and restlessly laying in bed. Ian was more than tired; he was fucking exhausted, his eyes red-rimmed and scratchy and his muscles tense and rigid. Most nights Ian slept well, or slept okay at the least—he kind of had to learn to sleep in any situation after sharing a room with Lip and Carl and Liam for his entire childhood, always plagued with slamming doors and shouting voices. It wasn’t noise that usually kept Ian awake on nights like tonight, it was silence— a deafening, pounding silence that felt like it was crawling under his skin.

He looked over at Mickey, curled tightly on the opposite side of the bed, facing the wall with his arms around his chest and the covers practically up to his chin, the only really visible part of him the sliver of pale skin at the back of his neck that reflected the gauzy moonlight that was streaming in through the blinds. Ian noticed how comfortably Mickey’s face was pressed into the pillow, with even breaths escaping his half-open mouth, and instantly felt a pang of envy. That was the thing about Mickey—he never really had trouble sleeping. Mickey could always drift off the second he hit the sheets, whatever voices that lived inside his head easily quieting when the lights were dim and the world was still. Ian didn’t get it—the voices in his head always ramped up when the lights turned off, always churned and swirled and made him question his entire existence in the stagnant, pitch-black silence— and usually Ian could quiet them, after a little while, but on a night like tonight Ian knew he’d be stuck in the spiral, with his heart racing, until the sun came up. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to will his body to relax.

Ian could feel an odd sense of panic bubbling up in his throat as he laid there unmoving, feeling suffocated by the heat of the deep, dark night pressing in on him. His legs felt tingly and restless, and his head was throbbing because of how tired he was but the static in his mind kept whirring, like a broken radio set to the wrong frequency. He sighed loudly, letting the air burning in his lungs fizzle out of him, just wanting to penetrate the thick silence. He just wanted to be asleep—he was supposed to get up early to put the coffee on before Lip had a job interview, and then he wanted to go for a jog before he and Mickey had a shit ton of weed runs to do that would jam-pack the entire day tomorrow…

Beside him, Mickey shuffled beneath the covers. Ian froze. Fuck, he did not want to wake Mickey up right now. Mickey was crabby and groggy on the best of mornings, but when he didn’t get enough sleep he was truly a force to be reckoned with.

Unfortunately, Ian’s prayers went unanswered. Mickey drew in a deep breath, rustling under the sheets once more.

“Okay Gallagher, what’re you sighing for?” Mickey’s flat, muffled voice piped up from under his blanket cocoon, low and throaty and full of sleep. He sounded exasperated and deflated, and definitely not fully awake.

Ian let out another long breath, more quietly this time. “Nothing, Mick. Go back to sleep.”

But of course, instead of listening, Mickey aggressively yawned and turned over, stretching to shift his body weight and turn onto his opposite side to face Ian. Ian just remained where he was laying, his head lying limp and heavy on the pillow while he stared up at the ceiling.

Mickey dazedly rubbed his eyes, noticing that Ian was fully awake. Immediately, Mickey shook off the sleep that was clouding his eyes. He stared at Ian for a moment, his eyes wide and searching. After a moment, almost on reflex, he carded a quick, gentle hand through the front of Ian’s hair as he leaned in closer.

“You feeling okay?” Mickey’s voice was distant and drowsy, like he was still half-asleep but trying to will himself to wake up.

Am I feeling okay? There was so much latent meaning wrapped up in that question, and Ian felt a cavernous gratefulness bloom in his chest that this was the way Mickey asked—he wasn’t assuming that Ian being manic was the reason that he couldn’t sleep, but he didn’t rule it out either. Mickey was just waiting for Ian to tell him what he was feeling, what he needed, without assuming anything about Ian’s brain before Ian did.

Am I feeling okay?

Ian swallowed, his glassy eyes still fixated on the cracks in the ceiling that he could barely make out in the dark.

“Yeah. S’not anything to worry about, I’ve been taking my meds. I’m just… stressed out I guess.” Ian could hear the fatigue dripping from his voice as it glided across the darkness.

Mickey was still staring at Ian, his gaze piercing and concerned.

“Stressed out?” Mickey questioned lowly, like he’d never heard the two words before.

“Yes, Mickey, stressed out. I don’t know, it’s fucking stupid, just go back to bed.” Ian sighed in frustration.

Instead, Mickey shifted again, propping himself up on his elbow and leaning fully on his side, looking like a teenage girl at a sleepover who was ready to hear some juicy gossip.

“Well I’m awake now, mouth-breather, so why don’t you tell me what you’re worried about?”

Ian gave a quiet, strangled chuckle. What the fuck was he supposed to say? It just fucking sucked to not be able to sleep, to lie there frustrated with dry eyes and a parched throat, grasped tight in the clutches of whatever worries were lying hollow and dark in the pit of his stomach and not being able to do anything about it.

Ian knew it was stupid, but for the last few months he had been pretty much the only one worrying about keeping things together— getting steady money, putting aside fucking savings, trying to keep the house intact and fill the gaping hole Fiona left behind that Ian still just didn’t fit into right, for the sake of Liam and Franny and Carl now that Lip had moved out. Ian had never really given a shit about money, until he had to start caring about everyone else—and it didn’t bother him, it really didn’t, but now that Ian was caught in this fucking sticky silence, he realized how much worrying about taking care of everyone else was actually wearing him down, grinding away at him bit by bit without him noticing.

He exhaled a heavy, trembling breath.

“Just. I don’t know. Worried about money, I guess? And worried about our job. I know we agreed on guns, and I totally fucking get that now, but I’ve never done a job that’s so… dangerous? And then I’m panicking because what if we make total asses of ourselves with this business bullshit and fail and lose everything, and then we’d be back to square one…”

Mickey just sat there perched on his elbow, listening. He wordlessly reached to press the pad of his thumb to Ian’s forehead, above his eyebrows, smoothing the worry lines and creases that started to bloom there as Ian spoke.

“And I just… I don’t know, my heart’s just fucking racing for some reason tonight and I can’t make it stop.”

Mickey continued to silently run his thumb gently on Ian’s face, tracing above his eyebrow and the side of his temple in a soothing pattern that made Ian’s eyes want to flutter shut for the first time in hours.

“S’there anything I can do?” Mickey’s gravelly, sleepy voice cut through the darkness.

Ian peeled his eyes from the ceiling, and shifted them to meet Mickey’s. He was still staring down at Ian with searing concern, like Ian’s stupid fucking worries were a big deal if they were making him feel this distressed.

“It’s fine, Mick. Just get some sleep.” Ian held Mickey’s gaze for a moment, expecting him to turn back over and wrap the blankets around himself.

Instead, Mickey curled closer, draping a heavy arm over Ian’s waist, followed by a thick and heavier thigh between Ian’s legs, his nose nuzzling into the side of Ian’s neck. Ian froze, just for a moment—Mickey definitely usually wasn’t the one to initiate tender touches of intimacy, but he was half-asleep and he knew how much Ian needed this right now, knew it would calm his racing heart down to a steady beat. Instantly, Ian felt something, some heaviness that was burrowed deep in his chest, dissipate at Mickey’s touch.

“Mick,” Ian said. There was something in his lungs, in his throat, on his tongue. He didn’t know what it was. All he knew is that his heartbeat was slowing, his blood was running through his veins at a normal speed again, and the pressure building in his head starting to dissipate.

“This okay?” Mickey was almost asleep again, and mumbled the words into the crook of Ian’s neck, his breath tickling Ian’s chin.

Ian breathed out with relief, curling a hand over Mickey’s shoulders and drinking in the feeling of Mickey’s warm skin nestled against his, a grounding, solid weight holding him at bay. “Yeah, this is good.”

#wishing u sweet dreams wherever u are <3 #am i just fully projecting onto ian in this one??? yes #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless #shameless fic #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #ian and mickey

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idga-buck · 3 years

Text

Some and Others, 2/?

Bucky finds it difficult to end a relationship without a good reason, until he has a good reason.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3,702

Content: sexual references (18+ only), swearing, Bucky seems like a jerk in this, but he really isn’t. I’m so behind on FATWS (like..second episode behind) because the friend I’m watching with is very busy and I respect that. This doesn’t contain any spoilers that I know of and doesn’t use the show as a point of reference. May change in future chapters if I ever get to watch it.

“Fuck... Fuuuu-“

The word died in Bucky’s chest, dissolving into a

mouthful of shamelessness. Grunts that vibrated against the back of his teeth as his body tightened, every muscle from his fingers digging into your hips to his burning quads pulled so taut that his ass cheeks could have crushed rock between them. He was getting rather comfortable using his new body to dole out something other than pain and suffering, to experience something else too. Though by the yellowing finger shaped bruises scattered on your legs and arms, there was still a little pain. The good kind, you’d assured him many times and some days Bucky Barnes was in awe of the fact that there was a “good kind” of pain. He wasn’t ready to be on the receiving end to find out for himself and you never pushed him to it. You were good, he liked that.

When his orgasm faded, leaving Bucky feeling like an empty husk of a man, he leaned down to kiss you in the middle of your back. A “good job” kind of peck that ended with him pulling out and pulling away to flop his sweaty body into your bed. There was a fuzzy blanket that irritated his heated skin and while he kicked awkwardly at it until it fell onto the floor, you were catching your breath next to him and inching closer. He wasn’t in the mood to cuddle and he closed his eyes hoping you wouldn’t expect too much. That was why he’d come over so early in the morning anyways. To see you off to work in a fun way, but at a time when he knew you wouldn’t be able to dawdle. Much to his surprise, you kissed his shoulder, the same little gesture he’d given your spine, and then rolled away, yanking a flowery robe from under his wide spread leg to pull it out. It was getting hot outside, the summer air a little too sticky when it seeped under those long sleeved shirts he preferred, but thankfully you kept a stand up fan at the end of your bed and Bucky sighed dreamily when he heard you flick it on, the artificial breeze shooting up his legs and cooling his damp skin. He’d expected you to continue your walk across the room and into the bathroom to prep for work, but your footsteps were muffled, which meant you’d stayed on the rug next to his side of the bed. Even with his eyes closed, he could tell you were watching him. Sure enough, there was a small dip in the mattress next to his head and your hand reached up to play with his sweaty hair.

“I could call in today.”

Bucky’s left eye fluttered open at the offer. You’d squatted next to the bed, leaning in one elbow to mess with the hair around his ears while you spoke. He usually liked that. There weren’t any memories of gentle touches from the last oh, 7 decades or so, and the therapist he stopped going to had encouraged him to seek out hands that didn’t hurt him. He’d found you shortly after and it felt good enough. Lately, especially today, Bucky just wanted the touching to stop making him feel so guilty.

“You’ve been gone a week, maybe we-“

“Better not,” he interrupted, rolling his head against the pillow to look at you. It felt like the decent thing to do. Look a person in the eye when you tell them no.

You were still smiling at him, but the hand that was touching him fell to the mattress. “You sure? We could stay in bed,” your voice lifted, knowing it was an extremely tempting offer. “I missed you, soldier.”

“Yeah,” Bucky offered a tight smile that probably looked even less convincing when it was half smashed into a pillow. “You should go to work.”

You licked your lips and kept them tucked in over your teeth as you nodded then stood without saying anything else. You’d get ready in the bathroom, Bucky would close his eyes again and pretend to be asleep when you emerged. You’d kiss his cheek and he’d enjoy your quiet apartment for the rest of the day while you were at work. It was how things had gone for a while. Long enough that it surprised Bucky a bit that you were still offering to stay home with him after he’d returned from a mission.

He flinched a bit when the bathroom door creaked open again and recovered quickly, waiting for his kiss before the front door closed behind you. But he heard dull footsteps pause before being replaced by the sharp sound of heels against wood. Then the rivets on your leather bag scraped over the kitchen counter and the keys jingled in your hand. Bucky waited, but the door opened then closed again without your lips stopping near his face. He sat up right and looked through the open bedroom door toward the entry, half expecting you to come back in, apologizing as you awkwardly stooped in a tight skirt to right this mistake.

You didn’t. And Bucky took it to mean that you felt it too. This whole thing was over.

He’d started feeling that way just a few weeks ago. You’d been feeling ill and he realized that he was more than happy to stay away. There wasn’t any urgency or desire to take care of you and only realized it a week later when he was coming over and you’d asked him to bring a Gatorade. He’d stopped dead on the street just outside your window and wondered if he should ask after any other needs. Or if maybe he should just assume and bring something he knew you liked. But then he spent too long standing in front of the candy rack by the glass covered register without a clue what you liked. He grabbed one of everything at first then put them all back, not wanting to admit he hadn’t been paying attention. He’d been a spy, an assassin, a marksman, a ladies man- all of which required keen observations. Yet, he’d missed this. Bucky told himself it hadn’t come up and he paid for only what you asked before heading upstairs.

After that, he started to feel off about everything. Noticing all the different things he didn’t necessarily like about- not you- but being with you. Not that it would sound any better, but once he realized he wasn’t actually ready to be in a relationship, the awkward dance began. Bucky Barnes had never been dumped. Obviously. But he’d never really had to let a girl go either. Dating was so different back when he was at it. Dates were frequent and they were fun. Being seen out and being seen with the right girls only made you more popular. It was especially good for the girls and a date with Bucky Barnes was as good as gold. Now, you and he had skipped over all the steps he’d known anything about and once you called yourself his girlfriend he had no clue what to do with you. Fumbling around for a few months didn’t yield much progress and the frustration was too much.

Everytime he thought he’d do it, he decided it wasn’t the right time… or he’d decide to kiss you instead, one last time. Last kisses taste as good as the first if you don’t really mean it and too often, Bucky found himself back in your bed instead of walking away. He’d linger in your apartment while you were at work, treating it like his own secret clubhouse and try not to think about how his mother would pinch his ear for how he was treating you. So Bucky finally rolled out of your bed and stepped into the shower.

Under the spray, he eyed the products you kept in a gray plastic bin for him and he wondered if he should throw them out when he was done. He had no use for them back in the compound, but when he pictured you coming home to find all his stuff in the trash before he’d had a chance to say something, he left the bottles where they were and toweled off. Then he dressed and checked his phone in the kitchen. You’d texted from your office, asking him if he’d meet you for dinner. He didn’t prefer going out, but he could suck it up for this. It would be easier to let you down in public. Maybe. Bucky agreed and you responded with a tiny picture of a floating yellow head. It was smiling so he slid his phone into his pocket and left it there to eye the kitchen next. Part of him wanted to leave, knowing what he’d have to tell you later. But another part of him was hungry and he knew you kept bacon in the freezer for weekends. So he stayed.

He’d changed into a set of clothes in the bottom drawer of your dresser. Just a black pair of jeans and a sweater that you said made his arms look tasty. The outfit was left after a different date and now Bucky was glad to be getting it out of your dresser. He didn’t bother leaving the city, but he did leave the apartment, knowing you’d stop home to change before heading to the restaurant you chose. He found a bar to sit at until 6:00, but while he was killing time a text message came in that ruined his whole evening.

Bucky should have seen it coming and when the toe of his boot collided with the trash can outside, he wished it was his own brain. Or heart. Or whichever other organ was responsible for putting him in this mess. He looked down toward the sidewalk and kicked that too. He knew exactly which organ got him here.

There were plenty of signs. Little moments that he ignored to soothe every selfish ache. The need for sleep, the need for comfort, the need for release, the need for something that was just his. You’d given him all of that without question, but clearly not without expectation. Dating a hundred year old soldier came with its own difficulties sure, but dating an Avenger seemed to make up for all of that. Bucky knew he wasn’t blameless, having agreed to the whole boyfriend thing knowing your name, your address, and how much he liked sleeping on your sheets. Beyond that you were a mystery to him and it seemed to be unraveling right before him.

This kind of thing was meant for Steve or Tony, the faces of the organization not the bloody fists behind them. Bucky hadn’t even considered that he was being used until FRIDAY alerted him of a sudden social media buzz that included his name circulating around the internet. Tweets and posts and fan accounts which he wasn’t aware he had were passing around a photo of him. It was undeniably him. Even without seeing it on a regular basis, Bucky could recognize his own back from a photograph. The problem was his shirt, or lack thereof, highlighting the fact that one of his arms was the color of gunpowder and twice as deadly. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who it was.

Aside from the obvious violation, feeling like the intimate moments he’d guarded so carefully were suddenly being invaded by a world of people who didn’t know him, Bucky also couldn’t help but feel hurt as the leaked photo proved something he’d suspected, but never gave much thought to. You were only with him to be with an Avenger. He wasn’t sure it would matter who it was, you would have gone home with any member of the team given the chance. It was his face you found at the bar that night, so it was his life you slithered into without remorse. Bucky had only one desire left when it came to you— to slither out the same way.

“What is this?”

Bucky dropped the phone on the table between you and watched you wince at the loud clattering of silverware. If only you’d known his real desire was to throw the damn thing. On the screen before you was a familiar photo, one you’d posted yourself to Instagram, desaturated just enough to catch the early morning sun glinting off Bucky’s arm complete with the location “Welcome to New York” and appropriate Taylor Swift lyrics in the caption. The muscles in his bare back tensed as he looked out the window of a swanky hotel room. You’d met him for drinks in the bar downstairs when the night manager caught wind of the avenger in his hotel and made the surprisingly vacant presidential suite available for you two. It’d been a good night. A very good night, Bucky thought, before those steamy memories were spoiled in this very moment.

“Earth’s Mightiest Lover, question mark?” You read aloud, laughing at the headline, before looking up at Bucky’s face drawn tight in annoyance. “I mean, it’s not far off,” you offered casually, winking as you passed Bucky his phone back. He was unamused and watched as you straightened in your seat, tone suddenly matching the serious look on his face. “My page is private, I don’t know how they got that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he seethed. “You posted it.”

You scoffed. “I didn’t realize this was a secret.” You sounded offended and that surprised Bucky. As if you didn’t know exactly what you’d done.

“What I do in my personal life isn’t anyone’s business,” he insisted, still standing next to the table instead of sitting to join you.

He only became aware of the other patrons watching the exchange when your eyes left his to float around the room. You lowered your voice in response. “Well, what I choose to share from my life is.”

“This isn’t about you,” he sighed, dropping his voice a bit to match yours. No reason to bring anymore unwanted attention to himself.

“It feels like it is!” Your whisper was forceful and you turned your face away from him immediately after. “Why the big fuss, Bucky? Was it really a secret?” He didn’t answer. If he’d done what he’d been meaning to do sooner, this whole thing could have been avoided and he felt more ashamed of himself than you. It wasn’t that you were a secret, per se. It just wasn’t something he knew enough about to share with the world. He was still getting used to this century, let alone dating in it, let alone being a public figure in it. There wasn’t any part of him that wanted to fail in front of an audience and he assumed you’d know that. Even if he’d never told you. “What’s the point of a superhero boyfriend if no one can know,” he heard you mutter while he was lost in thought.

Bucky froze. “What’s the point?”

“Bucky, I’m sorry,” you said quickly. The air around your table changed immediately and you’d both picked up on it. “I hear how that sounds, that sounds bad, that’s not how I meant-“ he turned around and unfortunately, you chose to follow. He heard the offended gasp of a nearby table as you scampered after him, heels a dull thud in the thick carpet. “Bucky, come on. I didn’t mean it, can we talk about this?”

“No,” he said gruffly, pushing the door open and stepping out onto the sidewalk again.

“We’ve both said things-“

“Well, I’m done saying things.”

“Wait…” Bucky stopped walking when you grabbed at his arm. You didn’t normally go for his left side. He didn’t know if it was because you found it weird or if you thought he did. Another thing he never brought up. The feeling of your hands wrapped around vibranium was startling enough for him to face you, expectantly. “What just happened here?”

“This isn’t going to work for me,” he said, watching your mouth twitch a little as you considered his words. At least he wasn’t kissing you. He still kind of wanted to, it’d become a sort of habit over the last few months. When he was wound up, like he was now, he came to you and you made it go away. Simple. Yet now it felt complicated. Like the relationship was supposed to be more but also felt like too much. He wasn’t ready for it and as long as he focused, as long as he got out as soon as possible, he wouldn’t slide back into comfortable ways.

“Bucky…” your eyes were wide and your voice broke a bit at the end of his name. “Are we… are you breaking up with me?” You asked, before adding, “Over a picture?”

No, but also yes.

Bucky knew that he should, before you got hurt, though apparently he was too late for that. Your arms were crossed over your chest defensively and he dropped his eyes to the pavement. It wasn’t the picture. It was everything. The picture gave him permission to do the right thing. Though the right thing probably would have been telling you he wasn’t interested in a relationship at all when you asked.

“Delete the picture,” he said simply, choosing not to say more. “You don’t have a superhero boyfriend to brag about anymore.” With the twisting of that knife, he felt more like the Winter Soldier again in that moment than he had in months. Cruel and beyond his own control.

It happened so fast. All of it. By the time he’d returned to the compound, half the team was waiting for him. Tony stood smugly looking like a dad that hated being the bad cop, while Steve wondered aloud why Bucky had kept his relationship a secret for so long anyways. Sam’s questions were blessedly lighthearted, but Bucky’s gratitude could only be expressed in quick grunts as he pushed through the Brady Bunch. Back in his room with the door shut, Shuri called and without really thinking, Bucky answered. He didn’t turn to face the hologram floating above the kimoyo beads on his bedside table, just let the princess talk directly at the side of his head while he listened.

“Sergeant Barnes!” The honorific was standard for her and most of the time he appreciated it, but storming out of a date like a teenager had him feeling less than worthy of any title. He was barely fit to command his own personal life at that second and being called sergeant left a sour taste at the back of his tongue. If the boys could see him now, moping about because a gal was too eager to show him off. Ridiculous.

“Bucky…” he muttered to himself, but it didn’t matter. Shuri was already rambling excitedly about something or other she’d cooked up in her lab. Under normal circumstances, Bucky would be enthralled, but he was tired. Not physically, after accidentally on purpose taking a nap in your bed before getting dressed again. Just… all the other kinds of tired that he couldn’t talk about. So while the Princess talked, Bucky hummed randomly. He didn’t think he was allowed to miss this call and stayed on the line, though his disinterest was noticeable and promptly called out.

“Why do you look like someone kicked your goat?” Bucky turned to glare at the floating head and Shuri cackled. His time as a shepherd was nothing compared to the real Wakandans who’d been perfecting their craft over thousands of years, but she’d never let him forget his ‘roots’ as she jokingly called them. Because of her he was reborn, therefore Wakanda was his de facto home. Honorary member of the border tribe and the royal family’s favorite broken white boy.

“We broke up.”

“You know,” she started in a light tone, far too playful in response to his news. “White Wolf is just a name, you don’t have to be so lonely… or mopey.”

“I’m not mopey,” he argued, but the fight wasn’t really there.

“Says the mope,” Shuri countered, sucking her teeth and shaking her head. “Nakia would twist your lip if she saw it stuck out like that.”

“Well the next time I’m in the presence of the queen I’ll let her.”

“You know Sergeant Barnes,” the youthful tone in her voice disappeared instantly. She sounded every bit of the Black Panther mantle. “It’s been a long time since a man has snapped at me like that and walked away unscathed.” There was an underlying threat that sent Bucky upright, sitting on the edge of his bed and lifting the beads in his palm. Already his posture was more respectful than it had been a moment ago.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely and Shuri nodded. “I… I don’t want to talk about it.”

Finally the princess’s smile broke back through and Bucky was instantly relieved. “I didn’t call you to talk about girls anyways.”

“Can we skip this one?”

“No,” said Shuri, leaving no room for argument.

“How many diagnostics does one arm need?”

Shuri looked back up from the tablet she’d grabbed and squinted at Bucky. “The next time you rebuild a brain and an arm from scratch- you can tell me.”

And there was nothing to say to that, so Bucky detached the arm in question and set it down before popping a single kimoyo bead into the empty joint. He got comfortable and waited for Shuri to engage him again for another evaluation. The first year was critical, she kept saying, and he had no choice, but to agree with her.

He’d never rebuilt an arm or a brain.

While he waited for her to need his input again, Bucky thought about you. How surprised you looked when he started to walk away. Maybe you hadn’t seen it coming like he had. Just before Shuri finished with the arm, he’d decided to reach out to you. Not tonight. Probably not even tomorrow. But at some point, he’d apologize for the brusqueness of his exit. If he got the chance to.

Photo because, Bast bless this woman. She is too good for the world. Also. A mood. Shuri isn’t here to fix your relationship, Bucky. She’s a genius and a princess and a badass.

A/N: this is my not so subtle introduction to a genre I have created called, what is everybody else doing? Ok do the opposite just for fun. One of my favorite things in fic is when Bucky finds himself a girl who’s DiFfErEnT. Seriously I eat that shit up like fourth meal. But for fun, I asked, what if ‘reader’ is just like everyone else? A little shallow. A little star struck. A little in over her head. A little bit Alexis. Jk. Kind of. The excitement starts in the next chapter which I won’t wait two months to post. I don’t think.

Tags: @fangirl-swagg

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #sebastian stan characters #idga fic #some and others

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pervysagehoekage · 3 years

Text

Paring: Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Warning: Contains mild degradation, some hair pulling. Slight spanking. Both parties are over the age of 21 (Fem/ Gojo is over 28), rough sex.

Disclaimer: I do not own the character Satoru Gojo but I do own the plot and story line. This one shot is just for entertainment purposes xx

A Mentor’s present

Plot: You’re packing up with move out on your own but one last person wants to see you off. Your mentor Satoru Gojo. But you soon find out he’s had his eye on you for a while...

“About time.” You wipe the sweat from your brow and smile. You were finally going to move off of campus and start working at a Jujitsu company. You were ranked number three in your class but you knew your potential was greater than that.

You look over your items and remembered the special gift your mentor Satoru Gojo had given you. You run back to the dorms and find the gift no where to be found. “No, no, no. Where is it?” You search your now empty closet and still nothing.

You sit in the middle of your floor on the brink of tears when you hear a throated chuckle at your door. When you look up you see-

“Gojo Sensei.” You sniffle and stand up to greet him. But he tosses a small box at you. You catch it and sign in relief when you see it was the gift. “Y/N you can’t go leaving gifts around. What if it got into the wrong hands?” Gojo Sensei says with a tease as he pushes his shades back over his eyes.

I clear your throat to hide the embarrassment you felt from being teased by your mentor. “I didn’t mean to leave it.” He steps into the room and closes the door behind him, which makes not think anything off about that gesture. Gojo Sensei would normally do odd things from time to time so closing a door was nothing to you.

“You’re all packed up? Wow can’t believe you’re leaving this place.” He says as he sits on your now bare bed. You sit down next to him and look around. “Me either. Remember when I first got here? I was wide eyed, terrified and ready to take on any curse.” You laugh at the memories you attained over the past six years with your classmates and teachers.

“Promise me when you’re all settled to invite me over to your new place.” He says in a tone you never heard him use before. “Of course, I’ll throw a great big house warming party for everyone to come.” He turns to you and suddenly the shorts and tank top clinging to your sweaty body seemed to make you feel naked.

“I have to say you’ve grown to become such a promising successor. So much so that I’m a bit sad you’re leaving.” You feel a blush in your cheeks. “I won’t be far, G-“

“You don’t have to be formal, call me Satoru.” He tells you as he scoots a bit closer. “Satoru.” You test out his name and you barley notice his eyes traveling up and down your body.

“Y/N, why haven’t you opened your gift? It took me months fo find the perfect item for you.” You glance down. “I guess I’ve been so busy packing, opening something would just seem like a haste to just have to pack it again. But I’ll open it.” You open the medium sized box to find a golden choker. “It has a protection spell on it, I figured you’d want something like that for the line of work you’ll encounter.”

“Thank you so much Satoru.” You look it over and feel his hand brush against your knee. “I can help you put it on for you.” You nod and turn around handing him the choker. He places it on and his lips brush against your ear. “Now that you are no longer my student I can finally confess that I’ve had feelings for you for quite some time.” You freeze.

You’ve always found Satoru attractive, you’ve even had a crush on him for the past six years. But you knew you couldn’t do anything about the crush since he was your mentor. But now you’ve grown up and to know this information has made you clench your thighs together.

“I saw that, Y/N. Why did you clench? Am

I making you uncomfortable? Should I leave?”

He starts to get up but grab his leg. “Wait!” He chuckles in your ear and wraps his arms around your waist. “I won’t leave you, now from the way you reacted I can conclude that you’ve felt the same?”

You bite your bottom lip. “Yes.” You mumble. “What was that Y/N? I can’t hear you, maybe I should just leave.”

“Yes, Sensei. I like you okay.” He chuckles and rests his chin on your shoulder. He then released your waist and touches your thighs. “Forgive me for this very lewd thought but how many times have you played with yourself thinking about me?” You squeeze your thighs tighter together and feel your nipples harden.

“Well..um..."

“Here I’ll make you feel comfortable. Just last night I touched myself thinking about you, I even moaned your name till I saw stars.” He grazes his teeth against your neck and you can help but to moan out.

“Your sweet moans are just as I imagined. I bet you’re just soaking wet under these shorts. May I?” You nod, wanting him to touch you. So he slide his hand into your shorts and he lets out a hiss.

“You are soaked. Even your clit is engorged.”

You spread your legs a bit to give him extra access and he slowly stokes your clit. “Satoru, I’m gonna cum soon.” You mewl out as his picks up the pace of his dangerous fingertips.

“Before you do, I want your hands behind your back. Let’s say this is your final lesson on this campus from me.” He says in a raspy voice. You do as your told and you hear his zipper unzip. You feel him guide your hand and you feel his hard cock in your hand. You can even feel the precum from the tip. “Feel what you do to me, such a naughty student...making your ex mentor this hard and sticky.” You stroke him as he continues to rub your clit faster.

Satoru then slide two fingers into your needy pussy. You almost forgot to keep stroking him but he pauses only for a moment. “I can’t just let this go to waste. You lay down, I want to make you feel good.” He moves his hand and he moves yours. You lay back on the bed but he instructs you to keep you legs over the edge.

“A little help here?” He asks as he takes his glasses off. You lift up but freeze as you see Satoru’s light blue eyes. He smiles at you as he slides your shorts off and throwing them in a corner. “Do you want me to make you feel good Y/N?” You nod but he raises a brow.

“Yes, Satoru. I want you to make me feel good.” He smiles and then looks down. “Such a good girl, you have something for me to eat.” You see him about to move your panties to the side but you stop him.

“Don’t look.” You barely plead. “So you don’t want me to devour this...pretty little pussy?” He rubs your inner thighs and you wanted him to taste you. He wanted you to shove his face between your legs and tongue fuck you till you can barely walk.

“Just say the word, and I’ll either leave you alone as you wish or...I’ll fuck you like the naughty slut you want to be.” He says as his hands reach further up your inner thighs. “Please...” You moan as your hips slowly buck for him to touch you.

“Please what, little girl?” He says as he reaches further making your inner walls soaked. “Please taste me, please fuc-” He interrupts you by kissing you and letting his hand palm against your hot sex. You moan against his lips and he pushes you back by your throat gently. “Be my good girl and let daddy eat this little pussy.” Without warning he rips your panties off and he places your legs over his shoulders.

His warm tongue does circles around your slick slit. You look down at him and his eyes were staring deep into yours. You feel him slide two fingers in and he does a come here motion inside of you as he licks your now throbbing clit.

You can’t hold back, you start to stutter and your eyes roll shut as you start to feel yourself cum. “That’s right, come for daddy. Let me taste this pussy I’ve been dying to eat for so long.” Your hands find his hair. As you grip it as you twitch but he holds you down. “Shhh, can’t have anyone passing by know what’s going on.” He flicks his tongue fast and you tense up as you cum on his face.

“Mmmm, such a good girl.” He sucks and you try to jerk your legs close. “It..it’s sensitive, Sen-I mean Satoru.” You instantly regret saying that because he gave you a smirk.

“Is it now?” He stood up from the floor moving your legs off of his shoulders. You glance down and you saw his fully hard cock. “You want to taste it?” You bite your bottom lip and look at him through your lashes. “Can I? Suck it?” He smirks and beckons for you to come forward.

You get up and kneel in front of him. “Open.” He orders. You open your mouth and he places his wet fingers in your mouth. You suck your juices off of his fingers and he strokes himself in front of you. “Such a pretty little mouth. Mmm.” He takes his fingers out of your mouth and you wait for what’s coming next.

“Do you know how to suck a man’s cock, little girl?” He asks as he lifts your chin. “I can learn.” You tell him. He takes his cock and slides it in your mouth making a groaning sound which makes your sex tighten again. “Mmm you have been a fast le...learner.” He slowly bucks his hips in and out of your mouth and guides your head.

You make eye contact with him and his eyes flutter shut. “Good girl, sucking daddy’s coc-ah.” You took him deep down your throat and he was gripping your hair. “Such a lewd mouth. Mmm I’m sorry but I need to fuck this pretty mouth of yours.” He presses your hair against the side of the bed and starts to sloppily fuck your mouth you barely can breathe as he continues but he stops and pulls his cock out of you mouth.

“Come here.” He lifts you up places you on your stomach. “I need to be inside of you. But only if you want me to.” He asks as he massaged your lower back. You look back and rub your ass against the head of his cock. “Yes, I want you inside of me.”

“Then I need your ass up and face down. Scream all you want into the mattress. I won’t be gentle.” You were dripping wet thinking about Gojo Sensei taking you from behind.

You lift up and he holds your hips. He rubs the tip against your entrance and you look back giving him a smirk. He yanks your hair and your head goes back.

“Find something funny, little girl?” He said as he slapped your ass. You jump a bit but you feel a bit bold. “I d-”

He pushes your head down and rams deep inside of you. He fills you deep and starts pumping in and out of your tight abyss.

You bite the mattress and grab at it as he goes deeper. He yanks your head back up. “Baby, your pussy is like heaven.” He groans as he slides a hand between your thighs and plays with your clit which makes you try to jerk away from him.

“Aww, is someone still sensitive down her-ah! Fuck!” Your walls clench around him as he rubs you faster. “Saturo I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum.” He lets you go and he goes to town on your swollen cunt. You moan out his name as you soak the bed. “I’m coming.” He moan which made your body shiver. He stills and he shoots his hot thick cum deep inside of you.

When he breaks the kiss you felt love drunk. “Um Sensei, Satoru?” You ask. “Hm Y/N?” He held you close and played with your hair.

“Can we do this...again?” You ask as you buried your face into his chest. He chuckles. “We can anytime you want. But I’ll only come to you if you agree to go on a date with me.” You look up and see those eyes of his staring down at you. “Yes! I mean uh, yes.” He laughs at your excitement and pulls you on top of him and kisses your forehead. “How about we get cleaned up and I help you finish up packing.”

You think of a better idea. “I don’t have to be in my new place for another hour...so how about round two?” He gives a smirk and pins you to the bed causing a squeal to come from you.

“Mmm I thought you’d never ask...”

(There may be a part 2 to this. LMK if there should be xx)

#gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen #oneshot #smut #pervysagehoekage #adult fiction #fanfic #anime smut

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biscuit-buddy · 4 years

Text

kuzumochi. (18+)

Endeavor x Reader (Smut, Birthday Fic, 3.1k)

A/N: holy shit guys this got so much longer than expected i’m sorry if it drags at all i just had so much i wanted to get out! Also its 11:22pm so its technically still his birthday. ha.

What do you get for the man who could already have whatever he wanted at the snap of his fingers? Being the number one pro hero meant that Enji already received truckloads of expensive things, tickets to exclusive events, and the newest technologies simply because of his status. You knew this because everything he received went through you after being thoroughly checked at security. Eight months as his personal secretary offered you a glimpse into his extravagant world and honestly left you with a small bite of bitter jealousy. Some of the things that passed over your desk could pay the rent in your measly apartment for the next year, and you were sure he never gave most of it more than a second glance.

Your pen tapped lightly against your bottom lip as you stared at the pad of sticky notes on your desk, nothing more than illegible lines, dots, and scribbles covered the top one. With a sigh of frustration, you detach it from the stack, crumple it and toss it in the trash. Today was the first day of August, and the mental countdown to your boss’ birthday plagued your thoughts. While your job was comfortable as is, the cold treatment from the man you worked for grated on your every nerve. You’d think after nearly a year in his employment he’d begin to warm up to you, maybe even bother to remember your name. This was your chance to finally stand out to him if only you could think of something that the hero could possibly want for his birthday.

As much as he’d probably like a break or a vacation, you were in no position to provide that for him. He obviously didn’t want for anything material either. Does he even have a sweet tooth? You wondered silently as the tapping of your pen resumed against your face. I can’t even imagine a guy like him eating a cupcake. You know what? Actually I can and it’s hilarious. I bet his mustache would burn the frosting and-

“Ahem” Well, speak - or think- of the devil and he shall appear. Endeavor himself stood at your desk with an impatient look on his stern face. The goofy smile you’d been developing at the thought of the massive man eating sweets was quickly wiped off and your back straightened at an uncomfortable pace.

“Daydreaming on the job?” he asked, but you got the feeling he didn’t really want an answer, so you just bow your head in apology. In an embarrassed mumble, you replied, “Sorry sir, won’t happen again” and he gave a huff in response, not unlike that of a great dragon. You held back another smile at the fleeting thought of smoke puffing out of his nose in discontent, as he handed you a manila envelope stuffed to the brim with some kind of paperwork.

“I need this hand-delivered to the Hawks Hero Office immediately. This is sensitive information I’m trusting you with.” You gingerly accepted the packet, but couldn’t avoid the brief touch of his massive hand sliding past yours. You noted briefly just how warm they were, though you shouldn’t really be surprised. Courier work isn’t exactly in your job description but lately, you’ve been desperate to suck up anyways, plus some fresh air couldn’t hurt. You stood and gave one more quick bow, “of course sir, I’d be happy to deliver it” He seemed content with your answer and turned to walk through the frosted glass double doors that led into his office without so much as another word.

Honestly, that had gone better than most of your interactions in the past. Pleased with the slight development in your relationship you gatherers your purse and the envelope and headed for the elevator. Floors passed monotonously as you continued to float gift ideas around in your head, this was looking to be harder than you initially thought.

Once the lift reached the lobby you made your exit, pushing past a crowd of workers who seemed to just be returning from lunch. They laughed boisterously and made no notice of you squeezing around them. Finally, you made it to the front door of the Endeavor Agency and swiped your employee ID badge on the terminal next to the front door alerting the system that you had left the building. Fresh warm air tickled your skin as you made your way onto the sidewalk and began the trek to Hawks’ Agency. It wasn’t particularly far, only a few blocks away and the route was dotted with storefronts boasting all kinds of wares from cake to clothes to flowers.

In theory, one of the displays you passed should have given you an idea but once more you found yourself coming up blank as you approached your destination. The young man at the front desk smiled politely when you entered “Hi there, do you have an appointment?” his eyes flickered between you and the computer screen in front of him.

“Actually I’m here on delivery for Endeavor” you waved the yellow folder a bit to accentuate your statement “something about sensitive information?” This really wasn’t part of the job you signed up for. Face to face interactions with strangers is so damn awkward. Luckily the receptionist probably dealt with people like you all day and didn’t bat an eye before saying

“Of course, his office is on floor 22 but if he’s not in there, try the roof. I’ll let security know you’re heading up” and he began tapping at the keyboard with one hand while making a ‘go on’ gesture toward the elevator with the other. You thought about boarding but instead made your way to the staircase. I already walked this far, might as well make it a cardio day, and give myself a good excuse to order takeout for dinner. You were truly a genius, maybe it was time to apply at NASA instead of working your ass off for Mr. Hothead.

Twenty-two floors was a bit more of a workout than you thought it would be, and when you finally arrived at the top you were mildly sweaty cheeks ruddy and more out of breath than you’d like to admit so you take a moment to calm down before opening the doors and walking past the security guard. He gave you a sideways glance but kept his mouth shut as you knocked twice on the office doors.

The lack of a verbal response clued you into the fact that he was likely on the roof just as the receptionist had said, so you hung a left and let yourself sprint up one more flight of stairs. Once you made it through the door marked ‘rooftop’ you spotted the winged hero perched near the railing. You announced yourself so as not to startle him,

“Excuse me, Mr. Hawks? I’m here on behalf of Endeavor, he asked me to deliver this to you as soon as possible”

He wheeled around at the sound of your voice, and his eyes lit up with amusement at your disheveled appearance. “Hey, thanks! I was kind of expecting the big man himself but you’re certainly a nice surprise” he winked and took the folder from your hands “Nobody told me Endeavor hired such a cutie to be his secretary, ya think I have any chance of poaching you from him?” Despite your earlier thoughts about NASA, you had no intention of leaving your current position so you just laughed.

“I’m flattered but unfortunately I’ve got some oddly placed sense of loyalty for him”

“Oh I get it” he cocked an eyebrow “I would too if I was you, the guy’s a size queen’s dream after all. Gotta love the whole naughty secretary dynamic too”

You sputtered at his bluntness “Oh god no nothing like that I-”

“Aw, I’m just teasing kid, how couldn’t I when you come up here looking like that” He gestured to your flustered appearance and you immediately regretting taking the stairs moments ago “Besides, I’d be surprised if you got him to warm up to you enough to remember your name let alone bend you over his desk” He was spot on, you had to sigh at that.

“You’re right there, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t even notice if there was an entirely different person sitting at my desk tomorrow”

“Heh, yeah, sounds like him. But you know, his birthday is coming up maybe a gift will put you in his good graces” another effortless wink was shot your way and despite him being the one with wings, the attention really ruffled your feathers. It’s like he had a secret mind-reading quirk or something.

“I thought of that, but I have no clue what a guy like him would even want. It’s not like shopping for your mom, where you can just give her a picture frame that says ‘Live Laugh Love’ and she cherishes it forever ya know?” Hawks snorts in amusement at your comparison. You’re right and you’ll defend that if he asks, but he doesn’t.

“In that case, I’d be willing to let you in on a little secret, some little known Endeavor lore, a true exclusive if you ask me”

“I’m not a tabloid Hawks, just tell me already” this guy messes around a lot for being the number two hero, its an incredibly stark contrast from his only superior.

“Okay, okay, you gotta lean in though, he’d kill me if I leaked something so personal” you lean in closer as instructed and he whispers into your ear, “his favorite food... is kuzumochi” You pull back in visible disappointment.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, he goes crazy for the stuff. Honest to god I’ve seen him inhale an entire batch in like five minutes. You want him to notice you? Then this is the best possible way, trust me.” and for some crazy reason you do. This could actually work, if it’s really as much of a secret as the blonde claims, you’d certainly stand out among the other gifts he’s sure to get.

You thank Hawks and turn to leave with a newfound confidence in this new plan, but not before he makes you promise to tell him how it goes after the big day. As you exit the winged hero’s agency building the work phone you were assigned chimes with a new email letting you know that you can go straight home after the drop-off, and your grin widens. Even better, now you have time to stop at the grocery store on the way home, the decision already made to go big or go home. You were bound and determined to make the kuzumochi from scratch, and it was gonna be the best damn thing your boss had ever tasted.

*******************************

The rest of the week dragged on in a painfully average way, the only thing keeping your mood afloat was the surprise dish you had been working on every night. You’d gone through multiple test batches, determined to get the flavor and consistency just right. The work paid off on the night of the 7th, just in time when you completed your best batch yet. With a content sigh, you washed your hands and packaged up the kuzumochi like a damn professional. Finally, you were able to take a long hot shower and climb into bed early with the anticipation of tomorrow bubbling in your chest.

Morning came quickly and your daily routine was done with care, then you grabbed the gift and began the short commute to work. Brain on autopilot, it seemed like no time at all until you were seated at your desk and logging in to the company’s computer system. The pristinely packaged gift was nestled into the corner of your desk, waiting for the perfect moment.

This moment came just before lunch when a mildly scuffed up Endeavor breezed past you in a huff and headed straight into his office. This is it you thought Sure, he’s a little pissy at the moment but this’ll cheer him right up. And with that, you knocked once on the office door and peeked in. The sight of him slumped in the leather office chair in front of the massive floor to ceiling window, eyebrow cocked at your intrusion made your heart jump just a little. How can one man be so damn intimidating? You cleared your throat and began to speak with entirely false confidence.

“Sorry for barging in sir, I just wanted to give you a birthday gift. It’s not much, but I hope you’ll accept it” the whole situation reminded you of confessing to your crush with a box of chocolates in middle school, and it’s funny how some things never truly change. You presented the box to him and to your surprise he actually reached out to take it.

His scrutinizing glare never let up as he untied the silky ribbon and lifted the lid, but once he recognized the contents his expression shifted quickly to one of surprise.

“Is this... kuzumochi?” His gaze fell on you and it had nearly physical weight.

“Yes sir, I have it on uhm, good authority that it’s one of your favorites” should you admit that Hawks told you this bit of information?

“Why?”

“I’m sorry? Its… well, it’s your birthday, right? I wanted to get you something that would stand out.” It felt silly to admit to his face.

“And why would you need to stand out, Y/N?” You had to keep your jaw from hitting the floor when he so casually dropped your name, the name you were sure he hadn’t even known. He decided to let you mull over the question as he took a bite of your carefully crafted treat, you could hear a small satisfied hum in his throat and it gave you chills. He beckoned you closer, “it’s delicious, would you like a taste?” when you hesitated he added, “it would be awfully rude to refuse your boss on his birthday, especially after all the trouble you’ve gone to making these”

A heavy step carries you over to his desk, like lead weights attached to your ankles. As you approach he rises out of the chair, a new unreadable look replaced the one of irritation you had been so used to all these months. “Come closer,” he said when you stopped just short of the desk. He’d never spoken to you like this before, and it sent chills down your spine. A few more steps took you around the desk to where he stood, and you barely flinched when he placed a large palm on the side of your jaw, the other held a piece of kuzumochi near your mouth. His intent was clear, he was going to feed it to you by hand. “Open” he commanded softly and you couldn’t deny him if you wanted to, so you complied.

The sweetness melted over your tongue, you truly had outdone yourself here. And once the piece was securely in your mouth, a warm thumb brushed over your bottom lip where his eyes also happened to be resting, completely content in watching you chew and swallow. The intimacy of the situation wasn’t lost on you. You recalled something that Hawks had said about a ‘sexy secretary dynamic’ and once again he was right. When the taste had completely faded from your senses, you looked up to finally meet your boss’ eye. The intensity in them shook you to your very core.

“I’ll ask you again, why do you think you need to stand out?” at this, his hand dropped from your lip down to your waist “Were you hoping for some kind of special attention?” the depth of his voice made your thighs clench, knowing full well where this conversation was heading. He noticed the action and quirked his lips into the faintest smile, one full of mischievous intent. One large step forward for him pushed you back onto the sturdy wooden desk. “I can’t possibly disappoint my favorite little employee then, can I?”

You barely had time to brace your arms behind you before his hand moved over again to res on the top of your thigh, and the one that remained on your jaw guided you into a kiss. It began soft, Endeavor was no fool. He tested the waters, your willingness, before jumping right in. The second you started to kiss back it was full speed ahead. The man was experienced for sure, he knew exactly how to coax your mouth into a dance with his own. Once his tongue pushed into your mouth it was all over for you, you’ve become a slave to the feeling.

All too quickly he broke the kiss, and you had half a mind to whine at the loss of contact. When you opened your eyes you noticed he was leaned over towards the box of kuzumochi that started everything. Odd time for a snack but okay. And when he returned to face you he did have another piece in his mouth, as well as the red ribbon you used to tie it in his hands. Your mouths met once again, this time he pushed the food into yours with his tongue. While you’re distracted with the odd sensation of kissing and eating at the same time you hardly notice the way he pushed both your arms up above your head and deftly tied your wrists together with the ribbon. When he was sure they were secure he let them drop and find a home around the back of his neck.

You swallow the kuzumochi just as he turns up the intensity, completely claiming your mouth with his own. This time, he pushes you even further back until you’re laid completely flat on the desk. His fingers rake up and down your sides while his hips press against yours. You can feel his growing excitement pushed up against you and the feeling has you nearly moaning. Nearly isn’t good enough got the number one though, and he starts trailing kisses down your jaw and further until he reaches the junction of your neck where he bites and sucks like his life depends on it. This finally brings forth the noise he was chasing, and when you go to cover your mouth from embarrassment is when you finally realize that your wrists are bound.

Your boss’ attention is directed elsewhere though, as he reaches a hand under your skirt, past you panties, and begins to stroke your folds. You both realized how wet you’ve become at the same time, and now it’s his turn to moan. One large digit enters you as his mouth travels further south, now nipping at your collarbones and chest. Your wrists slip from around his neck and his free hand strokes upwards from your side to push your arms up over your head. Completely exposed to him he continues to ravish your skin and curl his finger in and out of your cunt. Quickly you come undone around his finger and he removes his mouth from you long enough to drag the digit along his own tongue.

“You’re even sweeter than the kuzumochi, here” he pushes the finger into your mouth and you diligently suck the rest of your juices from it. “Good girl.” The praise itself makes you moan once again. When he’s satisfied with your work he begins to remove his pants and you finally get a glimpse of what you’re working with. You nearly get up and walk out right then, because the man is massive.

“Just relax, I’ll start slow” he reassures and stays true to his word. After a long moment of adjusting he’s fully sheathed inside you and you swear this is what heaven feels like. The moment he begins to move you know you were wrong. If that was heaven you must have finally ascended even further, to wherever gods go when they die. Endeavor fucks you hard and slow against his desk until your eyes are rolling back in your head and you can see every constellation on your eyelids. And when it’s over, you’re shaking like a leaf.

He pulls out, not giving a second glance to the fluids leaking out of you and onto the floor, and begins to untie your wrists. Both of them are red and raw from the friction of the ribbon, and he places a tender kiss on each of the marks. One more kiss on the bruised patch he left on your neck, then he’s hoisting you upwards in a sitting position. Still unsteady but slowly coming back down to earth, you feel a soft tissue wipe at the mess between your legs while a strong hand continues to keep you upright rests at your side.

When you look up to meet his gaze, your confidence is no longer an act. “Happy birthday,” you say and for once he breaks out a genuine smile that makes him look ten years younger.

As he rests his forehead against yours he replies, “It’s not over yet” but before you can question his meaning the intercom system next to his computer rings and a voice announces “Mr. Hawks is on his way up, sir” and you choke. You did promise you’d tell him how things went.

#endeavor x reader #endeavor #enji x reader #enji todoroki #bnha #mha #happy birthday endeavor

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needyounow-love · 4 years

Text

I just love my boy, I'm sorry lmfao

Obey Me Headcanons - NSFW Alphabet

Leviathan

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's most likely to pepper his partner face in kisses or let them pepper him in kisses. He doesn't care if both of you are sweaty and sticky, he won't let them go until the morning after while holding them still against him with his tail.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He's very insecure but he still likes his tail a lot. His favourite body part of you are probably your ass or thighs

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

You can find it here.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You can find it here.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Most people think that he's inexperienced only because he's an otaku but he doesn't only watch hentai, he also had his fair share of partners and hookups, so he pretty much knows what he's doing. However, if he's doing it for the first time with a new partner, he might be a little nervous and trembling.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes to keep a position from where he can look at your reactions but he also enjoys doing it doggy style or pushing himself in you while both of you are on your side on his or your bed. He also likes to pick you up and spread you legs so he can push into you while he's standing.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He tries very hard to be serious but can't help but laugh when you start telling him some funny game or anime references.

Random funny thing that could happen

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

If he doesn't have a partner he doesn't care much about it, but if he has he will keep it neat and trimmed. And yes, his hair under there are purple.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He tries to be extra careful since you're not a demon and that's also why he prefers to let you dom him. He likes to hold your hands and keep eye contact with you to see how much pleasure he can make you feel and to show you how much he trusts you and cares about you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He's used to jerk off in the silence of his room while watching Hentai. I can't help but think that he must have used his tail multiple times to stroke his cock or to fuck himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

First, this boy is a kinky little shit and a switch, but he enjoys getting bossed around, being both degraded, humiliated and praised. He loves role-playing and especially loves when you dress up as his favourite characters.

Levi's more of a masochistic than a sadist but he might be rough and want to he in control when he's jealous. He likes to get chocked and restrained and might be open to try his tentacles kink.

He's also kinda of an exhibitionist and likes to tease you or get teased in public where everyone could see you.

He has a bit of a breeding kink but will get embarassed if you mention it to him.

If you push his buttons the right way, he can also be kinda of a brat tamer and punish you for being a tease or a brat.

Finally, he likes to cover his partner in lovebites and to get covered in them too. He likes the idea of his partner wanting to show to people that he is only theirs by marking him up. At the same time, Leviathan feels the need to let everyone know that his partner is his only.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers to do it either in your room or his but might be open to do it in public places if you convince him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Push your body against him or grind on him and he will do anything you want. He's probably the one who will get more easily aroused after Asmo.

Licking or biting his ears or neck can make him bust a boner, especially if you start to feel him up at the same time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

The Avatar of Envy wouldn't be able to share you with someone, not even with one of his brothers, so he will be against sharing you while having sex.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Levi loves to use his tongue on you and started loving it even more after seeing how his bi-forked tongue affected you. He likes to feel you pull his hair while he eat you out/gives you head and will get more into into if you push his head to make him go faster.

At the same time, he loves when you surprise him with random blowjobs while he's playing video games, even if he will nag at you for it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He will accept any pace that you want to keep but he prefers to be fast and rough or slow and rough. He likes to pound you or have you destroy him until he starts crying of pleasure.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Again, he enjoys the risk, so he would enjoy to have quickies while risking to be found by someone. However, he wouldn't like to have more quickies than normal sex because he likes to spend hours to make love or fuck with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He will be open to try anything you want. He loves when you suck him off while he's playing his games with some friends because he gets excited by the thought that they could easily get caught if he let out a moan.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He usually stops after you get tired, but he could keep going for over 8 rounds and I'm not joking. The only time he won't be able to go for multiple rounds is when he gets overstimuled.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He love toys and he will start using if you suggest him that you both could use them. He likes to use them on you but he also likes when you use them on him.

He probably has different strap-ons of different sizes and vibrators.

He also has some plugs that likes to put in you after filling you up.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's not unfair, unless he's punishing you. He prefers to give you all you want though.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can't hold his moans and high piched whines and will be really really really loud. He doesn't even try to hide how much pleasure he feels, unless he has to, and, even when he tries, he fails. Sometimes, if the pleasure is too much, he will even start sobbing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes to wrap his tail around you if he's given a chance to and will use it to show to others that you're his. You will get used very quickly to him wrapping it either around your waist or one of your legs to keep you near him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

You can find it here.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He tries to control it but his sex drive his pretty high.

If he's not jerking off to one of his hentai, then he's doing it to one of your photos. Levi especially likes when you surprise him with sexual advances, even if he won't admit it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won't be able to fall asleep until you do, unless he's the little spoon. In that case he will just let himself drift off to sleep thanks to your warm embrace.

---

Obey Me Masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #otome #leviathan x mc #levi obey me #levi x mc #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me headcanons #obey me levi headcanons #obey me leviathan headcanons #leviathan headcanons

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lonelyreputation · 4 years

Text

Caught

A/N: Hello hello! Here’s some (more) fluff!! Who am I? But anyway, I wrote this from this sensory request and it was actually the first request I GOT ON THIS BLOG (!!!) so I'm so sorry that it’s coming so late!! But I’ll always remember this request bc it was the first🥺

Anywaayyyy thank you all so much for reading, sending me the nicest messages, reblog-ing, and requesting prompts!! I get so much motivation from you all it’s insane!! Thank you!! I appreciate every single one of you!!

PROMPT: Licking your fingers while eating Cheetos

Chat Chat Chat | MASTERLIST

Warnings: One (1) swear word & a bit of a heated make out session😶

Word Count: 3.9K

Being a twenty-year-old and playing sold out shows in stadiums around the world was abnormal. But what was more abnormal was that the twenty-year-old who spent most of his time on a tour bus than in his own apartment was your boyfriend. Not many people could say that their boyfriend was in Amsterdam one day and then Paris the next.

Shawn had spent spring in Europe on a tourbus and hotel rooms, and his summer wasn’t much different, except for the fact that he was on his North American leg of the tour. He had convinced you to come traveling across America; it was more in your budget and convenient with your university schedule.

Every now and then, Shawn would have some down time, but it wasn’t very often. He kept apologizing whenever he was pulled away and promised to spend time with you more. But you didn’t mind. Shawn had given you a front seat to his career and everything it entails. And it was fascinating. You would be in one city and everyone would already be advancing for a show that was two weeks away. The precision and detail of obscure jobs that some crew had gone over your head in the past, but seeing all the mechanics of everything that goes on for the show to happen…it made you appreciate Shawn’s performances even more.

You had gotten fairly close with Shawn’s head of tour merchandiser, Dane, and often found yourself helping him set up the merchandise stands when Shawn was off at a meet and greet, sound check, or wherever Andrew had pulled him away to.

“Are you playing in the little soccer match they have going on later today?” You asked Dane as you carried over a large brown cardboard box.

He held up a finger to you as he finished up his count in of tour posters and typed it on a tour merchandise app on his phone, “Yeah, you?”

You shook your head as you used a key to tear through the sealed box. Once the tape that held the box together was ripped, you opened the four flaps and saw that you were counting in some sweatshirts. Silently, you counted ten sweatshirts, put them in a pile on the side with a sticky note on top with a number ten circled and then counted out another ten sweatshirts.

“I’ve never been good with hand eye coordination,” you didn’t look up at him as you continued to count ten sweatshirts, “I’ve always been better at cheering people on from the sides.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed.”

You had just finished circling a ten on a neon green sticky note as you capped the sharpie and looked at Dane, “You’ve noticed?”

Dane nodded with a smile on his face as he hung up a piece of paper with a blown up image of a keychain; he stuck a large sticker with the price of the keychain on the corner of the paper. He hung it up on the black tapestry so that way fans would be able to see it before they got up to the front of the merchandise line.

“You’re always there for Shawn when he walks on and off stage. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go to the bathroom when he’s performing.”

You blushed as you finished counting the last of the sweatshirts in the box you carried in, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“He loves it,” Dane took a t-shirt and clipped the sleeves of it to the top of the tapestry, “The week before you came he literally wouldn’t shut up––Y/n’s coming next week, did you know? I just love her so much! I miss her so much!”

You bunched up a t-shirt and threw it at Dane as he miserably failed at impersonating Shawn’s voice, “He didn’t say that.”

“Ask him yourself.”

“Oh, I––“

“Ask who yourself?”

You spun your head around and came face to face with your boyfriend. You smiled at him and threw another balled up shirt at Dane.

“Hey! That’s merchandise we’re selling tonight!”

You waved Dane off and rested your hands on your hips, “Before I came on tour were you non-stop going around telling people I was coming and saying how much you love me and saying how much you missed me?”

Shawn still had a slight smile on his face as he gazed at you. His facial expression hadn’t changed since he walked up behind you, so you thought you had proved Dane wrong, but that wasn’t the case when Shawn spoke up.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, why?” He spoke as if it that information was public knowledge.

Before you had the chance to say anything, you felt a soft material collide with the back of your head. Your head slightly jerked forward from the contact of the t-shirt that was just thrown at you. You quickly picked the shirt off the dusty ground and glared at Dane, “This is merchandise that you’re selling tonight.”

Dane barked out a laugh as he finished setting up the merchandise display. He stood back and admired his work for a few seconds before informing Shawn he was going to check on the other stands and make sure everyone else on the merchandise team had completed their count in. They did some sort of bro handshake, before telling one another that they’d see each other shortly for the soccer game.

Shawn walked up to your side and threw an arm over your shoulder. You leaned your head back on his shoulder and looked up at him, “Excited for the match?”

“Yeah, just wish you were playing.”

Your eyes closed as Shawn lightly traced circles on your upper arm with the tips of his fingers. Shivers ran down your spine as you closed your eyes, “You’ve seen me play.”

Shawn let out a laugh as he started walking, guiding you around the main floor of the arena, “Even though it is probably a good idea that you’re not playing, it still would’ve been fun to be on the same team.”

You let out a snort as you snaked a hand around his back to pinch his hip. Shawn lightly jerked away from you before he tickled your shoulder in retaliation, “I’d make sure we’d be on separate teams.”

“Is that so?”

You hummed in response and let the conversation die down. Whenever a crew member passed, you offered a smile and Shawn greeted them by name. Seeing the dynamic he had with his crew was heartwarming because you had read of horror stories of main acts being absolute divas to their crew members.

Shawn led you backstage as the two of you wandered into his dressing room. You sat on the couch as he went over to a little duffle bag he packed just for the soccer game. Carefully, you watched him as he bent over, staring at how his shoulder blades could be seen through his white t-shirt as he rummaged through the bag.

Swiftly, he tore his white shirt off and you were graced with a second of seeing your boyfriend’s muscles. The sight didn’t last long because Shawn threw his t-shirt at your face. You scrunched your nose up at the slightly sweaty smell mixed in with his signature scent.

“Hey!”

It only took you a second to throw the shirt off your face, but it was a second too long because Shawn was already in a vintage t-shirt and sliding on a pair of athletic shorts up past his thighs.

“That’s not fair,” you whined.

Shawn threw his head back in laughter as he picked up his sneakers. He walked over to where you sat on the couch, picked up your legs without any hesitation, and as he sat down on the couch, he rested your calves on his thighs.

He hunched over your legs as you watched him slide his sneakers on and tie them up. The position couldn’t have been comfortable, but he managed to get his sneakers on without complaining for you to move your legs. And you weren’t complaining about the physical contact your legs had with his thighs.

Once he was done tying his shoes, he sat up and stretched his back, a few pops emitted from his body and you flinched, not liking the sounds of bones cracking together.

Shawn rested his hands on your knees as he leaned his head on top of the couch cushion, eyes closed he said, “I don’t wanna play.”

A small chuckle left your lips, “That’s a lie.”

He turned his head slightly towards you and opened one eye, “Yeah, I do wanna play,” he let out a sigh, “but sitting here with you is so nice.”

A loud laugh escaped your lips as you looked over at him, both of his eyes now opened and intently staring at you with adoration.

“We’re literally doing nothing.”

“As long as I’m with you,” he lifted his shoulders up in a shrug, “I don’t care what we’re doing.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. Truth is, you loved doing nothing with him. You savored the days when all Shawn wanted to do was spend all day tangled in your bedsheets. You adored the days when you would sit on your couch reading a book––in a similar position to how you were sitting now––and Shawn would be hunched over scribbling lyrics down in a journal, using your legs as a writing surface.

You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Too sweet.”

“Uh huh,” Shawn grumbled as he pointed to his lips with his index finger, “I want a real kiss.”

You pretended to think about it for a moment before swinging a leg over his lap, adjusting your knees on either side as you straddled him. Shawn’s hands instantly moved with your body as they landed on your waist. Unlike your hands that were pressed flat on his chest, Shawn’s hands slowly rubbed your lower back and come back around to your waist.

The only thing more heavenly than his touch was the feeling of his kiss.

Shawn craned his neck up to reach your teasing smile and captured your lips in a sweet kiss. Your smile was slow to disappear; being in Shawn’s presence was a reason for you to smile in itself, but once he pinched your hips silently telling you to focus on kissing him, you thought that was a good enough reason to stop smiling.

Your hands trailed up Shawn’s chest until they rounded his neck. He hummed as he pulled you closer to his chest and your fingers began to play with the small curls on the nape of his neck. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss at the same time his hands tightly balled up the bottom of your shirt. He lifted your shirt at a painstakingly slow pace to the point where you wanted to rip it off yourself.

Shawn had the shirt bunched up right under your bra. Breaking the kiss, you leaned back, untangled your arms from around his neck and raised them over your head to aid Shawn in taking your shirt off. Once the shirt was off, he carelessly threw it somewhere behind you, and without any hesitation, Shawn reattached his lips to yours as you felt a magnetic pull bring you closer to him.

His calloused fingertips were hot on your bare skin as they danced around.

Just as you lowered your body to grind against his, a loud single knock, followed by a Shawn, caused both of your heads to snap toward the door. Shawn practically threw you off him as he looked for your shirt––for anything––to cover up your exposed chest.

You were leaning back against the arm rest of the couch, trying to calm down your erratic breathing, as you watched Shawn’s eyes widened as the door handle rattled. It looked as if Shawn threw every ounce of common sense out the window as he threw a pillow that hit you in the face.

You clutched the pillow in your hands as you briefly looked down at it, and then back to Shawn, realizing what he wanted you to do with it, “I’m not––“

“Use it, Y/n––“

“Shawn!”

Your harsh whispers were cut off when Dane walked carelessly into the room. The pillow was still limp in your hands; in shock that Dane came into the room with little announcement. Shawn took notice of your chest still out for Dane to see––if he hadn’t seen it already––and with panicked eyes, he flung himself from the other end of the couch to lay on top of you.

You let out an oof as you felt Shawn’s full body weight collapsed on you; the pillow nestled between your stomachs. You had never complained about Shawn being on top of you, but with this position, the arm of the couch was digging into your back and you and causing you to cramp up.

“Shawn,” Dane said his name again as he continued to walk further into the dressing room, “Are you gonna come and warm up? The game starts in–––Oh.”

You tried to peak over Shawn’s shoulder to gauge Dane’s facial expression, but with the way Shawn was pressed up against you, you couldn’t see him. But from the suggestive tone of his voice, you knew that teasing would be soon to follow.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You squeaked out a not at all as Shawn let out a frustrated of fucking course.

You smacked Shawn’s back with his hand at his crude response.

Dane let out a bellowing laugh, “How ya feeling down there, y/n?” You heard his footsteps come closer and your hands clutched the fabric of Shawn’s shirt out of nervousness, “This is pure gold. Andrew has said that he’s never caught you two in the middle of doing something––I, of course, called total bull on that––and I’m so happy to have caught you two.”

“Dane,” You said as you drug out the vowels in his name.

His laughter rumbled through the room. Even though Dane was the person you were closest to on Shawn’s crew, it was still embarrassing to have been caught in a compromising position with your boyfriend. It felt like you were fifteen.

“I’ll be out in ten,” Shawn answered.

Dane’s laughter died down as you heard his footsteps carry themselves back over towards the door, “I’ll put a timer on, Oh, and Y/n––“ you could hear the smirk on his lips, “––I hope to see you on the sidelines, preferably with a shirt on.”

You dug your head into the crook of Shawn’s neck as you felt all of the blood rush to your face. Your hands were still tightly hanging onto the back of Shawn’s shirt for the next few minutes as he stayed in his position on top of you.

“At least it was Dane?”

At his weak attempt of lightening up the mood, you pushed him off and sat up on the couch, “At least?! He saw me without a shirt!”

“I covered you up!”

You shot a glare toward his direction as you got up from the couch and searched for your shirt. It was crumpled up in a ball on the coffee table. You let out a deep sigh, of course your shirt was thrown somewhere that was obvious. Lifting the shirt up by the sleeves, you frowned as you examined all of the wrinkles.

“Here,” Shawn was already walking over to his duffle bag, “You can wear my shirt––“

“I’m––No,” you answered him as you tugged on your shirt, “I’d rather wear a wrinkled shirt than have Dane point out that I’m in one of your shirts.”

“But––“

“Let’s go,” you were a few steps away from the door as you held your hand out for him to take, “I want to pick a snack from the vending machine before the game.”

Shawn let out a sigh and grumbled something about how he loved seeing you in his shirts, but he still took ahold of your hand. The two of you walked out the dressing room as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. A small smile overtook his face.

The two of you walked toward the backstage part of the arena where the vending machines were held. You brought up a finger to your chin, debating on what snack to pick, as the vending machine lights illuminated your face. Once you decided what snack you wanted, you pressed a knuckle to the letter L and then to the number 3.

You watched with excitement as the circular black rings slowly pushed your snack forward. And then as it was finally tipping over the edge, you smiled as the bag fell with a soft fmmp as it reached the bottom of the machine. You let go of Shawn’s hand to retrieve your snack from under the plastic black flap.

“Cheetos?” Shawn questioned just as you stood up and opened up the bag with a loud crinkle, “If I’d known you’d want Cheetos, I could’ve like added it to my rider and it would’ve been in the dressing room for you.”

You shrugged your shoulders as you held out the bag, offering your Cheetos to Shawn. He dug his hand into the bag and took one out. He popped it into his mouth with a loud crunch as he closed his eyes, “God, it’s been forever since I’ve had these.”

Shawn led you out of the vending machine room as you continued to share your Cheetos with him, “I remember having them as a snack after soccer games,” you shared, “You know how parents would sign up to bring snacks after games? I feel like every parent would buy that big value size pack of like twenty-four different chips, and I––“ you licked your fingers that were covered in Cheeto dust, “––Always picked Cheetos.”

Shawn tilted his head back in laughter as he pushed open a back exit door and held it open for you to walk through, “I was always more of a Fritos guy.”

You scrunched your nose up, “Fritos?”

“They’re good!” Shawn defended himself as the people from the tour crew, who were playing in the soccer match, came into view, “Don’t knock ‘em ’til you try ‘em.”

You scoffed, “There are literally dozens of other chips you could chose from,” you stopped walking when you and Shawn came up to the sideline his ‘team’ was on, “Doritos, Lays, Chex Mix––“

“Hey, Y/n!” Your eyes widened as you heard Dane yell out your name. His feet hit the pavement hard as he ran over, “Glad you could make it––fully clothed.” While he was talking in a calm soft voice, not raising it to cause suspicion, it still made Andrew’s head perk up.

“You caught them?” Andrew looked up from tying his shoes at Dane.

You blushed as Shawn’s manager looked between the two of you and then back at Dane as you tried to defend yourself, “He didn’t really see anything––“

“See any of what?” Brian had jogged over and started to stretch, lunging on his left leg as he reached down to touch the toes on his right foot.

“It was nothing––“

“Just Shawn and Y/n going at it in the dressing room,” Dane shrugged as he gave you a wink, “Boyfriend, girlfriend stuff.”

Andrew’s shoulders slumped as he reached over to his bag and pulled out a ten dollar bill and handed it to Dane, “I’m his day-to-day,” Andrew grumbled, “Can’t believe it was the merchandise manager who caught you two first.”

You stood there dumfounded, hand frozen in your bag of Cheetos. You and Shawn kept your relationship as private as possible––private from the media, your social medias, and made sure to keep your PDA to a minimum when you visited him on tour. So it was a bit comical to see how intrigued Andrew and Dane were in catching the two of you.

Brian straightened up from his stretching and held a fist out toward Shawn, “Sweet, man––Just like Denver last tour?”

Your bag of Cheetos dropped to the ground, the little you had left of your snack spilled, covering the pavement with an artificial orange color. You felt the heat of your oncoming blush rise up to your cheeks. With Brian being Shawn’s best friend, you had an inclination that he knew some––if not most––of your sexual relationship with Shawn. Which you were fine with because you told your best friend almost everything.

But it was always a topic you never discussed between the two of you. It was mutually understood that while you talked to your best friend’s about each other, you would never talk about it directly to each other. Shawn talked to Brian about you; You talked to your best friend about Shawn. But never would your best friend bring it up in front of Shawn. And never––did you think––Brian would bring it up in front of you.

The same thought seemed to be stirring within Shawn’s head as his eyes widened for a second. He was only shocked for a split second more before he let out a chuckle and returned the fist bump to Brian and chose to ignore his comment about what happened Denver, “Thanks, man.”

“Thanks man?!” You turned to face Shawn who had an amused smirk on his face.

You weren’t mad at the display of masculinity in front of you, in fact, you saw the humor in it, but it was still embarrassing having your boyfriend be congratulated in front of you for hooking up.

The sound of a high pitch whistle echoed off the pavement. With the sound of the start whistle, and players heading toward the makeshift field, it took away any chance you had of laying into Shawn more.

Brian ran away laughing, escaping the choice words you had for him, which just left you with Shawn. You crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly and tore your head away from Shawn as he lifted a finger under your chin to try and get you to look at him.

“Good luck kiss?”

With a playful sigh, you leaned up on your tip toes to press a peck to Shawn’s smile. His eyes were still closed when you pulled away and his smile grew wider, “You love me.”

“Unfortunately,” you said as you couldn’t fight Shawn’s contagious smile, “I love you a lot.”

Shawn let out a laugh as a few people hollered at him to come over, “How unfortunate for me,” he pressed another quick kiss to your lips before he started to walk backwards toward the game that had started without him, “Are you free tonight?”

You leaned your weight on your left leg as you tapped a finger on your cheek, “Hm…I’m watching my boyfriend sing at a little show,” Shawn stopped walking backwards, his full attention on you, and showed all his teeth in a grin, “But I’m free after.”

“It’s a date,” Shawn said before he spun around and ran toward the soccer ball.

#woot!!#some fluff #and a bit of teasing #:)#all in good fun #come tell me what you thought of it!! I love hearing what you all have to say!!#your messages make my day/night/mid-afternoon/whole year #🤩 🥰#thanks a million!!!#(the next piece of writing I post will be ANGST)#((or it'll be the prologue to my coffee shop au))#(((the angst needs some MAJOR editing so I think the prologue will come first lmao)))#which one would you want to read first?? okay im rambling I'll stop #enjoy!#Shawn mendes #Shawn Peter raul mendes #Shawn Mendes writing #Shawn Mendes writings #Shawn Mendes writer #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Shawn Mendes fan fiction #Shawn Mendes ff #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn Mendes blurb #Shawn Mendes fluff #Shawn Mendes x y/n #Shawn Mendes x you #Shawn Mendes reader insert #Shawn Mendes oneshot #Shawn Mendes one shot

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